paixaorpg | ? [Completed]

Edgeworth sat down at the edge of the bed closest to where Hojo was messing with the coffee pot, wrinkling his brow in confusion and wondering just what the hell the scientist was doing.

"Are you really that addicted to coffee, Doctor?"

"If you failed to notice, there's no coffee in the room," Hojo said, without turning around. "Though that is a shame, that's not what I need this for right now. I've got no other means of cleaning the bullet wound at this time, and though it's probably already infected heated water is still the best thing to use in the absence of anything that will effectively sterilize." Obviously.

Miles thinned his lips irritably at Hojo, offended that the taller man would think him to be such an idiot. He opened his mouth to object, but at Hojo's mention of the bullet wound, he paled slightly. What if the wound were infected and Hojo ended up having to get his arm amputated?

Well, that would most definately limit his ability to experiment, which may or may not be a good thing, but Miles most certainly didn't want to be the one responsible for that...

"Are you... okay?" he asked softly. Somehow, it seemed odd to ask that of someone who tried to kill you just a few hours before.

"Hn." Hojo glanced over his shoulder. "Surprisingly so, considering I can't currently use my right arm and at least two ribs are broken. So long as it gets taken care of soon I doubt I'll lose the arm." Okay, so the last bit was mostly said to make Miles feel more guilty. Hojo wasn't above underhanded insults, after all.

And Miles was always quick to guilt.

He furrowed his brow and brought a hand to his shoulder, clenching onto the fabric and gritting his teeth... that same wave of sickness from the lab overwhelming him once again. He dug his fingers deeper into his shoulder, trying to gain control of himself.

"I'm..."

Miles's voice was barely above a whisper. He cleared his throat and straightened up.

"I'm sorry, Doctor," he said. "For everything."

Well. Now he felt foolish, like he was the one in the wrong. That simply wouldn't do... after all, he wasn't the one kidnapping little girls, now was he?"

"But... It's not as though it were uncalled for."

"Of course not," the scientist said, moving over to the bathroom to get a wash cloth now that the coffee pot was full of rather scalding water. "The creature that you shot was incapable of responding to anything besides pain. You were quite justified."

Referring to the monster as a separate entity helped keep it separate from him, something Hojo thought wholly appropriate. That thing hadn't been him. He walked back over to the counter, removing his tie and unbuttoning his shirt with his good hand as he went.

"Although, I do appreciate not being shot in a fatal location, though I'm sure you know that." Hojo dipped the cloth into the water and pressed it to the wound in his shoulder, hissing sharply through his teeth.

"That's what I wanted to speak with you about, Doctor," Miles said, uncrossing his legs and rising to his feet, crossing his arms over his chest as Hojo worked on exposing the wound so that he could begin treatment. The white shirt he wore looked pretty bloodied, but underneath... the shirt was only opened slightly, but Miles could see that Hojo was very badly banged up.

He sighed and took a step forward, uncrossing his arms and looking at Hojo in the mirror. Now wasn't exactly the time to be questioning the witness, now was it?

The lawyer held his hands over Hojo's shoulders, looking as though he were going to pull off the shirt.

"Did you want help?"

"If I wanted help I would have asked for it," Hojo said curtly, working on cleaning the old blood off his shoulder. It had never dried properly, since he'd been stuck in the rain, so now it was just half-gelatinous and gross and not conducive at all to a clean healing.

"Ask whatever it is you want to ask, please." The last word was punctuated like an order rather than any sort of real pleasantry. The sooner they got this over with the sooner he could go to sleep.

Miles hid a cringe at the scientist's snippy response, spreading his fingers in surrender before balling his hands up into fists and crossing his arms once again.

"All right, then," he said, adopting the tone he commonly used at work. "First of all, what... how did you manage to pull of that transformation?"

Hojo sighed. He should have been expecting that.

"I didn't 'pull off' anything," he said with a shrug of his uninjured shoulder. "It just happened. There was obviously a catalyst, but I don't know what it was. Yet." That was first on his list of things to do once he was set up in a new laboratory. Because he WOULD find another one; there were too many unanswered questions to give up now.

Now it was Miles's turn to sigh. That didn't make much sense at all--he wrinkled his brow and decided to press further.

"How is that even possible?" he said, tapping a finger on his elbow. "Not too many people completely change form and have no idea what happened."

He knew Hojo probably wanted to sleep; whether or not Miles was going to let him was another story.

It really was impressive that Hojo was being as cooperative as he was, given the circumstances. He turned around, leaning on the counter and crossing his arms in annoyance.

Or, well, he tried to cross his arms in annoyance, but it didn't exactly go as planned. The scientist hissed at the sharp pain in his shoulder and settled for merely looking cross instead.

"The fact remains, however, that what triggered the transformation is unknown to me at this time. I can make a few educated hypotheses but they're fairly ungrounded without proper research." He was rather good at sounding like a status report, wasn't he?

Miles had to stifle a smirk at Hojo's rather silly-looking angryface--it was amazing how one was less intimidating once they couldn't fully use their body to express their annoyance. Of course, it was a rather morbid thing to be amused by.

"That brings me to my next question," Edgeworth said, leaning on the counter in front of the mirror. "Why were you experimenting on those two men?"

"To see what would happen," he said flatly. "Obviously. That's why one does any sort of experimentation. But I suspect that's not what you meant, yes?" Hojo grinned a little.

"Soon after I was so rudly dumped into this... world, for lack of a better word, I became aware of various forces at play that, for one reason or another, had failed to make themselves known previously. After a bit of observation it became obvious that these forces had the capacity to be extremely destructive, thus understanding them fully was of utmost importance. As to the manner of the specimens, Cloud was repaying a debt. The other one threatened my life and, quite frankly, had it coming. The girl was unharmed, as I'm sure you observed yourself."

"I... see," Miles said, blinking a bit at the scientist's sudden monologue. He couldn't say he entirely understood what Hojo was saying, or that he entirely approved of the reasoning behind his experimentation, but then again, Edgeworth wasn't exactly sure if Hojo was acting like any other scientist in the world, or if he were simply mad.

"So what exactly were you going to do with this 'destructive power?' Use it for weapons? Did you find out anything about it?"

"Ars gratia artis, sir," Hojo said with a slight wave of his good hand. "To know is enough for now. Once more knowledge is obtained, THEN one can begin to speculate about how to use said knowledge.

"As to what I've uncovered thus far, it's been embarrassingly little. I've simply been able to prove that yes, light and dark do exist as forces in humans, and that saturation with one or the other can induce physical change. I don't know yet what sort of effect it has on the psyche." He tapped Ansem's journal, which was sitting on the counter next to the coffee pot, along with the stolen hard drive. "Hopefully these will shed a bit more light on the matter."

Miles brought an index finger up to his chin to tap it thoughtfully. Physical change...? He must've been referring to the wing and the tail, unless those men were deformed to begin with, in which case he'd really have to wonder where on earth they'd come from.

But then again, he'd just seen a man turn into a rat-monster right before his eyes. Perhaps a benevolent man with a tail was the least of his worries.

"So you're saying... the destructive force was darkness?" He glanced down at the object Hojo had tapped. "And that's more information on it? Did someone else try to experiment with it?"

"Ansem seems to have done extensive research on his own, yes. I haven't been able to access all of it so far, but given enough time I'm sure I could get at the protected files." Assuming what he needed was in there, of course, but Hojo was rather hopeful.

The more he thought on it, though, the more nervous he became. he had never been a specimen in any of those sorts of experiments. Why had HE changed, and so completely?

He would not object to BEGINNING self-experimentation, if it meant getting to the bottom of the issue and, if all went well, correcting it.

Miles wrinkled his brow distastefully--the destructive force was 'darkness'? What a vague enemy to try and understand. And how could something like that be researched or experimented on?

"Once you do get access to them," Miles said, moving his hand away from his face and tucking it back behind his elbow. "What will you do with the information? Continuing your experiments?" He pouted his lips in thought, then added, "If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to take a look at those files."

Hojo shrugged. "Presumably. As I said, it's difficult to make plans when you don't know what you're dealing with. And once I gain access to the files you're welcome to look at them, though I can't imagine what you would do with them." If HE couldn't make sense of what he'd found, it was doubtful this lawyer would be able to, as far as Hojo was concerned.

Miles looked over at Hojo with the barest hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Don't assume that you're the only one who wants to learn about what's going on here, Doctor."

"And how, then, do you plan on doing that?" Hojo asked bluntly. "Unless you intend to leech off my research, since as far as I know no one ELSE is doing any."

But, well, to do any research he would need a place to conduct it... most annoying, he noted with a sigh. Though even if he hadn't lost his lab, he probably wouldn't have returned to it if at all possible. It was out of the way, and a lot of the equipment had been smashed beyond repair besides. It would be much better to find a new, clean place to work, one that wasn't underground. Though he would have much preferred being able to do so on his own time.

With a sigh, Hojo walked over to the door, seemingly randomly flicking the light off and looking around. He could feel his eyes shift slightly in their sockets... Hojo blinked, rapidly, and shook his head. "...Damn."

Miles frowned at the scientist, annoyed. He was treating him as though he were some sort of child, and Edgeworth did not take kindly to that.

"I'm not planning on letting you continue your research, Doctor, if you intend on doing it in the same manner as you were before." He uncrossed his arms and put one on the counter, staring Hojo down. "Besides, you said yourself you don't have access to all the data--who knows how far this Ansem-person got in his research?" He frowned. "And if he doesn't have the journal in his posession, I think it's safe to assume something must have happened to him." Miles continued to stare at the scientist, even though Hojo didn't meet his gaze. "Are you willing to take that risk?"

Miles blinked in surprise when he was ignored and the Doctor went and flicked off the light.

"Damn..."

"What...?"

"I can see in the dark," he said evenly, looking around. Everything was in black and white, but otherwise he could see perfectly clearly. Hojo flicked the light on again, blinking rapidly as his eyes readjusted. It stung.

"Ansem is gone, as far as I know, and IF I got any of his research in that drive or journal I highly doubt I got it all. There was a reason I didn't want the lab destroyed, and it wasn't because of the scenic location." Hojo shook his head, irritated that so much data had been lost. What a waste. "I'll crack what I can and start where the data leaves off. And I didn't kill Ansem, if that's what you're getting at.

As for the risk, I don't think I understand what you mean." What risk was there in continuing the research of someone who was gone?

Miles blinked in slight surprise at the scientist's declaration. See... in the dark? That must have something to do with that rat-monster that lied dormant unless he felt threatened.

"I wasn't implying you did anything, quite the opposite," he said. "The risks I'm referring to are the ones that he took." He drummed his fingers on the counter where he rested his hand, frowning again. "Ansem took the same risk that you're obviously willing to take, and look what happened to him. Are you willing to throw your life away like that?"

"Hm." Hojo smirked, just a little. "While I appreciate your concern, I don't think it's necessary. Ansem had enough enemies as it was; I doubt it's related. I'm also surprised you seem concerned at all about what I do with my life, to be honest. You didn't seem to be back in the fortress." Hojo? Immature? Never.

Now just who did Hojo think he was?!

"Excuse me," Miles said, folding his arms irritably. "for showing some concern over your life. I don't believe in standing idly by when people put themselves in a dangerous situation. Lives aren't something that come for a cheap price and I don't believe they should be treated as such."

He didn't want anyone marching into a situation where they might get themselves hurt or killed. Even if that someone was a person who threatened the lives of three other people.

Well, more than three, if you counted everyone he'd put into danger, but that was beside the point.

"You're excused," Hojo said drily, another small smirk pulling at his face. "You certainly are heavily invested in what you believe to be true. Though I suppose that goes with being a lawyer as well? Same as making assumptions, yes?"

All right, so now he was just being a smartass. He was getting his confidence back, it seemed; he was out of danger, Dias was nowhere to be found, and he wasn't currently transformed into a hissing beast. This was, undoubtedly, one of the better parts of his day.

Edgeworth stared at Hojo for a few moments, clenching his jaw and tapping a finger angrily on his elbow before looking away and finding a particularly interesting spot on the wall to stare at. This man was something, all right--first he made demands of his captors even after they'd found out that he was the kidnapper they were pursuing, and now he had the nerve to mock the very person who so graciously saved his life? Proposterous.

Sometimes all Edgeworth had was his faith, and he followed what he believed to be true even if it meant going against his client. It was almost suicide for his career, but finding the Truth and upholding Justice meant more than anything to him. But it wouldn't do to tell this man his life's story.

"...I suppose," he said, still inspecting the wall. "You aren't done with your arm, are you?"

His arm? "No," said Hojo, turning his head slightly to look at the messy wound. What in the world did that have to do with anything?

...He supposed he should feel a bit guilty for being so prickly for no reason. It certainly wasn't helping him any; it wouldn't do to go alienating everyone he met, after all. That would only get him more hostility, which he certainly would prefer to avoid, and this man seemed like the sort that could easily be persuaded to assist him in some way, provided he wasn't completely repulsed by now.

Hojo never had been one to apologize, though, and this situation was no different in that regard.

Edgeworth donned a smirk once again, unfolding his arms and tapping his forehead.

"Perhaps you should be more concerned with your health at the moment than your pride, Hojo," he said, glancing up at the scientist. "After all, you said if it weren't cleaned out and treated you could lose the arm, and it's already been quite a few hours since we left the fortess." Sure, Miles felt bad about inflicting the wound, and he would've felt bad if the arm had to be amputated, but... not if it were because Hojo felt like being a smartass.

Hojo frowned, tilting an eyebrow slightly. "I did say that," he said, gingerly touching the area around the wound. He wasn't sure what Miles was getting at, and suddenly he was on edge again. He didn't think of the lawyer as someone who was particularly intent on revenge, but his statement sounded quite like a threat to the still rather paranoid scientist.

He didn't say anything else, but he was regarding Miles rather suspiciously. Surely he knew better than to try anything now... Hojo didn't understand the ratmonster he'd turned into, but it had an animal's sense of self-preservation. If any part of the thing was aware while dormant, it was very likely it would defend itself if necessary.

The thought scared the scientist, much as he hated to admit it.

Miles found himself frowning again as the scientist drew away from him, obviously afraid. He lowered his finger from his forehead and rested his hand once again on the counter. Was this another side-effect from that monster inside of him?

"Do relax, Doctor," he said, shifting his weight on the counter. "I was merely jesting. It would do you well to tend to your shoulder, though. My offer to help still stands."

Though, he thought bitterly, he wasn't sure how much he actually could help.

Hojo regarded Miles warily just a bit longer, though the more he thought on it the less logical he saw his reaction to be. Why had he suddenly drawn away? He didn't like thinking that that... creature had any sort of control over his rational thought.

So, in direct defiance of his sudden instinct to distrust this man, Hojo nodded, moving the coffee pot back onto the burner to heat the water up again. "Check my bag, please; I can't recall what's in there, but there may be a bottle of rubbing alcohol." Why hadn't he thought to look there before? Damn his useless mind...

Edgeworth's face relaxed a bit in relief as the scientist finally accepted his offer. He quickly turned and found the bag, shuffling through it--some food (he really should've given those to the three when they were in the buggy...), the gun (whoops, he should hide that better), a journal, a... syringe?!

Ah, there!

His fingers closed around the bottle and he pulled it out, holding it out for Hojo to take.

"It would probably be best for you to take off that shirt," Miles said, taking a few steps towards Hojo. "You can't get to the backside of the wound."

"Is there an exit wound?" Hojo poked at the back of his shoulder with his good hand, wincing more than a little. It hurt like hell but he couldn't find another wound, which meant the bullet was still lodged in him somewhere. Lovely.

With a sigh, Hojo stripped his shirt off and took the bottle of alcohol, dousing his previously-used washcloth in it and steeling himself before pressing it to the hole in his shoulder. The scientist hissed sharply, hands shaking. At least the thing was clean-ish now, though.

Hojo nodded at his shirt, which he'd dropped on the floor. "It'd be best if the wound was covered," he said, even his voice slightly shaky. "That thing's about useless now, so would you tear it into strips?"

Edgeworth watched with morbid fascination as Hojo cleaned out his own wound, his hands trembling from the pain. He would've said something to the doctor, but found himself entranced and sickened by the sight.

He blinked and shook his head, remembering that Hojo had asked him a question.

"I don't see one," he said, folding his arms. "Of course, that might be worse--you'll have to get surgery, and this place isn't exactly the most technologically advanced place...."

"I know." The thought irritated him; being stuck in a place with subpar medical facilities was bad, but needing to make use of said facilities was... well, less than optimal. "Except for the journals, which is... bizarre, to say the least." Since Miles hadn't moved to do it for him, Hojo picked up his shirt and set about tearing suitable temporary bandages out of it.

"Oh," he said absentmindedly, almost unaware the sound escaped his lips. "Let me."

Edgeworth took the shirt and went for the seam holding the sleeve on the shirt, ripping it with slight difficulty before tearing the sleeve itself in half.

"How many did you need?" he said, holding out the two strips.

"Enough to keep the thing covered," Hojo said, taking the strips and dousing them in alcohol before he began the rather complicated process of affixing them to his shoulder. After a few moments of staring rather dumbly he managed to tie the strip around his shoulder, holding one end in his mouth and doing the actual tying with his one free hand.

"I don't think more than three or four, though," he said after a moment of thought. It was only a smallish wound, but it was awkward to cover with no tape and he wanted to be careful with it. Hojo started on the second strip.

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