Ace Attorney Preferences

How You Meet

These first ones are gonna be basic but then we can get to the fun chapters, okay?

Phoenix Wright:
Being called the teacher's pet was never fun in the slightest, but neither was sitting around for ten minutes waiting for someone to answer the professor's questions. Law school was rather boring to you, but only because you already knew the information from last year that was being reviewed. It wasn't very difficult for you to remember the simple terms.
"And what is the document that informs us of the date and time of the incident as well as what was believed to have happened to the victim?" The professor was asking. You raise your hand, your chin resting on your other hand. "Yes, (y/n)?"
"It's an autopsy report, sir."
"That's correct." The professor drones on about how important the autopsy is while you fall into a daydream. Class ends earlier than it was supposed to, and you start to pack your bag.
You hear a soft voice behind you, "Hey, uh, (y/n) is it? I was just wondering how you could be somewhere else entirely for the whole class but still know all the answers?" He rubs the back of his neck, clearly nervous.
"I'll tell you my secret if you tell me your name." You smile, picking up your bag.
"I'm Phoenix Wright, ace attorney," he replies proudly.
"With that confidence, I'm sure you will be." You pause. "But as for my secret, all I do at home is study." The two of you start to walk out of the emptied classroom together.
"How would you like to come to my place to study with me some time?" Phoenix asks, looking over at you.
"I'd like that." You write your number on a slip of paper, handing it to him. "Tomorrow works for me. Is that alright with you?"
"Definitely," he quickly responds, literally running away afterwards, his pink sweater moving in time with his steps.
Once you get home, you can't help but think of the day's events. Phoenix Wright, Ace Attorney...It has a nice ring to it.

Miles Edgeworth:
You were working as a detective under Dick Gumshoe. You had become good friends with Maggey Byrde in the process, but because of her series of unfortunate events, you were the first of the two to work on a "big investigation" as Gumshoe had called it. Nervously, you trudged along behind your superior as he led you to Edgeworth's office where the three of you would discuss the case at hand. Upon your arrival, the first thing you noticed was the bookshelf, practically taking up an entire wall. A bookworm, you thought, maybe this won't be so bad after all.
You felt very relaxed sitting on the couch, pointing out evidence that had caught your attention, "There was a scalpel found underneath a couch near the victim. Do you suppose they were going to try to fight back?" You looked up from your files to the two men sitting across from you.
"Oh, good job, pal! I didn't even see that." Gumshoe smiled, proud that his understudy was doing even better than he was.
"That's definitely a possibility, Ms. (y/l/n). We can arrange for forensics to conduct a fingerprint testing today." The corners of Edgeworth's mouth turned up, and though he would never admit it, you completely fascinated him.

Apollo Justice:
You were a rookie defense attorney trying to find work when you stumbled upon the Wright Anything Agency. The little building seemed homey on the outside, but when you looked through the window in the door, you noticed it was a complete and utter mess on the inside, just the way you like it. You rapped your knuckles on the door, waiting to be let in. The door opened, and on the other side was a man wearing a red suit, his brown "bangs" pointing upward. His eyes widened as he stammered out, "H-h-hiya, how can I help you?" You smiled, holding out your hand for him to shake, which he surprisingly does without his nerves killing him.
"Hey, I'm (y/f/n), a defense attorney. I was wondering if I could work here?"
"YOU'RE HIRED!" he yelled, making you flinch. "Sorry," he said sheepishly. You could've sworn you heard him mumble something along the lines of, "Damn Chords of Steel."
"Hey, hey, hey, who's being hired here?" a man in a hoodie and a beanie reading "PaPa" came to the door.
"Sorry, Mr. Wright, I got a little carried away there. This is (y/n), a fellow defense attorney." He stared at the floor, avoiding eye contact.
Mr. Wright looked to you, "And you were hoping to get a job here?" You nodded your head, slightly bummed about the way he worded his question. "Well congratulations, (y/n), you're hired. For real this time," he said, eyeing the other man who just blushed nervously.
After being given some paperwork to fill out before you could actually start working, you went home, thinking about that man (who you later found out was named Apollo)'s odd behavior. The best part? He was scolding himself over the same thing.

Klavier Gavin:
"It's just you and the piano, don't even worry about it." Your cousin, Daryan, had convinced you to be the opening act for the Gavinners. Funny enough, you still haven't met their lead singer.
Speak of the devil, you thought as he enters the dressing room you two were in.
His eyes light up when he sees you, and he sits down beside you, "Pleasure to meet you, Fräulein, I've been waiting to see you in person." Klavier Gavin himself wraps his arm around you like he's done it a thousand times.
You pull away slightly, turning into a stuttering mess, "I-it's nice to meet you, t-too." You look up to see Daryan rolling his eyes as he stands up.
"Let's go (y/n/n), you're on in ten." He leads you to the stage door. "Remember what I told you, all you really have to do is say 'hi' and introduce yourself. After that, it's just you and the piano. It'll be alright, I promise." You give him a hug for good luck, grabbing a mic and running onstage.
A wave of confidence rushes over you, giving you all the energy you need to perform, "Hello, everyone, how are we doing tonight?" The crowd screams enthusiastically, making you light up inside. "In case you don't already know me, I'm (y/f/n), or (y/username) on YouTube. Not gonna lie, I only sing covers,  I'll only sing what you guys wanna hear." You easily conclude that you were going to sing many covers by TØP and Against the Current.
"What about...the Gavinners?" You giggle a bit into the mic as the crowd goes wild, finally sitting down at the piano to start.
Side stage, Klavier and Daryan were talking, "I don't understand why she was so worried, she's a natural!"
"Perhaps that talent runs in your family. Do you ever think she'd–"
"Doubtful. She practically turns into a skipping record every time she meets someone new. At least let her get used to you before you try to ask her out."
Klavier looked out onto the stage, admiring your ability to give it your all. He knew, then, that he wasn't just going to be performing for the fans, he was going to be performing for you.

Kristoph Gavin:
Searching for an attorney to defend your friend had been harder than you anticipated. There were only a few law offices in your area, and all of the ones you had been to wouldn't accept the case. Things were starting to seem hopeless when you came across an obscure law office on the edge of town. Walking into a rather professional-looking waiting room, you were greeted by a boy in a red suit, his spiked hair the first thing you noticed.
"Can I help you?" He asked you calmly. His smile comforted you slightly, but you were still beyond nervous that you would be declined. You told him about your situation, and he asked you to wait, disappearing down a hallway before returning with a man with twisted blond hair and small glasses resting on his nose. The corners of his mouth turned up slightly as he introduced himself as Kristoph Gavin, attorney at law. Surprisingly enough, he took the case. Assuring you that you didn't need to worry about your friend, he brought you into his office to ask what you knew about the ordeal. Although you were concerned for your friend, a part of you hoped that the situation would allow you to come back and see him again.

Simon Blackquill:
Simon, nearly late for work, was rushing down the street, the prosecutors' office the only thing on his min—
"Hey, you dropped this. Sir, please wait!"
A stranger was running at him, full speed, one of his case files in hand. They give it to Simon while panting, a small smile present.
"Oh, thank you." Turning on his heel, Simon had taken no particular interest in them at first glance. Work comes first, or at least that was what he tried to convince himself of.
Nearly finished with his work for the day, Simon finds himself opening the last case file. After it's opened, a piece of paper tumbles out and onto his desk. (Y/n), it read, followed by a number.
Stealthy.

First one done, honestly I was so nervous about writing this story but it'll be all good