Somebody you have never met has been nursing a grudge against you for years.
You are tapping a sheaf of papers and looking smug.
You have no trouble balancing your career as a prosecutor with your career as a rock star.
The writhing of a mascot disturbs you.
You must do things in a particular order. If you try to do things out of order, you will find empty restaurants and deserted streets. Everyone you want to talk to will be away from their desks until you resign yourself to doing things in the proper order. You will only know what the proper order is only once things start happening again.
Your mother has taken a false name and hidden herself from you. You will never question or complain about this decision.
You are, unexpectedly, German.
You have no trouble balancing your career as a convicted murderer with your career as a prosecutor.
Somebody who is not you and whom you have never met has a set of bodily reactions and facial expressions hauntingly similar to yours.
People always make fun of your hair.
A woman is behaving in an outwardly seductive manner. She is a criminal or a liar.
You are wearing garments redolent of a more gracious past, and nobody makes fun of you for it. Your cravat is too elegant.
Somewhere in the room is a clue.
Nobody gets your name right; this is supposed to be hilarious.
An older woman pines for you.
Sometimes your limited set of facial expressions is no match for the complicated emotions you are experiencing, and you resort to staring, slack-jawed, as beads of sweat run down your face.
You have strong feelings about a television show starring samurais.
Your childhood best friend is an emotionally unstable liar. Nobody ever gets his name right, either. This is also supposed to be hilarious.
You are whipping people. Whip, whip, whip, whip, whip. They shriek and complain, but although you are very young and they are older and theoretically more powerful, no-one ever tries to take the whip away from you.
Your mistakes can all be undone, and when undone will be as if never made. Carelessness, inattention, blind stupidity, all of that can be erased in an instant and the day starts over, fresh and new. You have tasks to complete. Complete them in the proper order.
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You were murdered. This does not stop you from having your revenge, because you come from a family of spirit mediums.
You call an animal to the stand as a witness. This is the key to the entire case.
Your legal assistant has not a lick of legal training. She is, however, a bona fide spirit medium. No one has any problem with this.
You are a prosecutor, and you can do whatever you goddamn want in the courtroom. Conversely, you are a defense attorney, and you cannot get an ounce of respect no matter how hard you try.
You know exactly what to say next, but you can’t say it unless you point at exactly the right spot on your evidence.
You were executed. This does not stop you from having your revenge, because you come from a family of spirit mediums.
*
I could go on forever. If I were not at work, that is exactly what I would do.
Because of your childhood friend, you are saddled with unnecessary… feelings.
ok stopping
OBJECTION!!!
Adventure games sound so much more horrific when you think of them this way: “You must do things in a particular order. If you try to do things out of order, you will find empty restaurants and deserted streets. Everyone you want to talk to will be away from their desks until you resign yourself to doing things in the proper order. You will only know what the proper order is only once things start happening again.” TERRIFYING
You comfort yourself by picking up everything that isn’t nailed down and stuffing them into your pockets. Your pockets open into another dimension, so there is plenty of room for you to simultaneously carry a file folder, basket of apples, step ladder, piece of paper, cassette tape, and inflatable life raft.
You might not be able to find anyone in the restaurants or the streets, but by god, you can and will take their overlooked possessions.
It is very important that everyone understand that it is a STEP ladder, not a regular ladder. THERE IS A DIFFERENCE.
You live in Los Angeles, California, with its traditional Californian Shinto shrines, its traditional Californian spirit mediums, its traditional Californian Youkai villages, its traditional Californian
noodleH A M B U R G E R cartsThis is still one of my favorite fan joke comics about Phoenix Wright: http://awkwardzombie.com/index.php?page=0&com…
“Now come, and let’s enjoy a traditional American meal around the traditional American kotatsu.”
I nominate Franziska Von Karma for Honorable High Priestess of Misandry.
I have been attempting to write a Femlash Friday about Franziska for months but words to properly express her misandrist glory are not forthcoming.
!! It’s about her and Adrian, right? Please say yes.
I’d never heard of this game before but suddenly I have this scar on my arm, in my handwriting, telling me to play it. It looks like an old scar. Huh. How odd.
In fairness, my cravat is truly stupendous.
OMFG I have always assumed no one else would ever have played these! No one ever understands why I yell HOLD IT!!! or OBJECTION!!! while striking an awesome anime pose anytime someone speaks even the slightest factual error.
Phoenix Wright is the greatest hero Anime has known or ever will know.
You are whipping people. Whip, whip, whip, whip, whip. They shriek and complain, but although you are very young and they are older and theoretically more powerful, no-one ever tries to take the whip away from you.
That is because they are fools. Foolishly foolish fools.
STEP-LADDERS. Step-ladders everywhere.
You have a strong opinion on whether it is called a ladder or a stepladder. Regardless of what your opinion is, your colleagues all hold the opposite.
You have a decision to make. One or more of your possible choices is right; the rest, very, very wrong. You will know which your choice is by the words that come spilling out of your mouth: a confident statement about “this person” or “this evidence” or “this spot right here” – the name of the person, place, or thing will momentarily escape you, but you will remain unfazed for now – is wrong, while a more hesitant but also more specific answer is right. Don’t worry if your opponent is momentarily undaunted. The truth is on your side.
If you are performing a cross-examination, you will also know whether your answer is right by whether the music stops.
Someone is trying to frame you for murder by writing your name in blood at the scene of the crime.
You are a member of the female masses, and you are experiencing a frothing desire for this guy you just met.
You are only allowed to change clothes once a year.
You have never met anyone with a full biological sibling of the opposite gender.
A man attempts to violently murder you. You accidentally kill him in completely justifiable self defense. You move heaven and earth to hide this fact from the proper authorities because you live in a dystopian nightmare police state in which killing is always punishable by death, no matter the context or circumstance.
You do not succeed.
Every witness’ name is a pun, and nobody but you has noticed. If you ever point it out, you get a blank look at best and a whipping at worst.
A convicted murderer continually demonstrates that he can easily shatter his restraints, has an extremely resourceful and loyal pet at large, and can slash people at a distance with invisible blades of air. Nobody sees any particular reason not to let him practice law unsupervised.
You (the chief prosecutor) stand accused of murder. Nobody asks you to recuse yourself. You prosecute yourself to the best of your abilities.
You are incredibly, criminally underpaid and can barely afford basic necessities. This is played for comedy.
There was…an incident. It happened a long time ago. You’ve moved on with your life and don’t like to talk about it or the fact that it was never resolved to your satisfaction, but now things are happening, to you, around you. Somebody wants to reopen the investigation and it is so painful to answer all these questions and dredge up your old memories, but new evidence is coming to light and everyone who was involved back then is coming out of the woodwork; you’re all together again and maybe, just maybe, even if it kills you, the world will finally know the truth.
You see a lot of teenage girls, but, with the exception of people’s mothers, hardly any women over 40.
Your name is a pun, and you have chosen a lifestyle based on it.
You will not rest until you have examined every suspicious nook and cranny.
Your job requires you to store and keep everything you can find that is not nailed down, because you never know when you’re going to need it. However, if you do decide to get rid of something, you can rest assured that you weren’t going to need it again anyway, as long as you are discarding it voluntarily and loudly declaring your intention to do so
There comes a point in most of the cases you prosecute where you decide to throw the trial. For the remainder of the trial you allow the defense attorney to prosecute your key witness while you mostly smirk. Somehow this stunningly unprofessional behavior has earned you a quick series of promotions.
There is an old woman, and she is a nightmare. You cannot escape her. She finagles her way into being a witness for a suspicious number of your trials. She haunts your dreams. Your colleagues find her amusing.
Your political and legal system is not sophisticated enough to produce competent judges. It can’t even produce multiple judges
Actually, there are two judges, I think…
You are wearing garments redolent of a more gracious past, and nobody makes fun of you for it. Your cravat is too elegant.
my new life goal
These games were the reason I started studying law. It is not nearly as much fun in real life though…
Oh and: You have a terribly dark past. So does everyone else, or they’re not important. Despite that, your career really took off before your age hit the double digits.
Sometimes your limited set of facial expressions is no match for the complicated emotions you are experiencing, and you resort to staring, slack-jawed, as beads of sweat run down your face.
If the greatest thing about the series is its writing, then I suppose the series really isn’t that great. I only ever played the first one, and I just couldn’t stand the ridiculously gullible juges/offices, simplistic evidence, and clichéd “bad guys” who just have to explain everything to the “good guys”.
I can see how the game itself can be fun, but the writing is incredibly weak in my opinion.
The writing gets better by game, the first game was the weakest, but it grows and grows as the Trilogygoes on.
Adventure games sound so much more horrific when you think of them this way: “You must do things in a particular order. If you try to do things out of order, you will find empty restaurants and deserted streets. Everyone you want to talk to will be away from their desks until you resign yourself to doing things in the proper order. You will only know what the proper order is only once things start happening again.” TERRIFYING
You are whipping people. Whip, whip, whip, whip, whip. They shriek and complain, but although you are very young and they are older and theoretically more powerful, no-one ever tries to take the whip away from you.
I’d never heard of this game before but suddenly I have this scar on my arm, in my handwriting, telling me to play it. It looks like an old scar. Huh. How odd.
It looks like a good video game, thanks for sharing.
In fairness, my cravat is truly stupendous.