(workshop comment! apollo is a 22 year old law student, tired, pretty independent, but really wants friends!! hit me up.)
(ii.)
(apollo, despite his usual serious demeanor, is actually a fan of haunted houses. nothing helps someone unwind more than a good old fashioned scare. at least, in apollo's book. he's bouncing on his feet in excitement as he enters, turning every which way to take in all the horrifying decorations. the way he's inspecting everything, it's as though he's trying to get scared. and he is.
eventually, he comes upon one of the aforementioned hallways of mirrors. taking a moment to laugh at his own appearance in the reflections, he then notices the walls beginning to close in on him. and while apollo may be young and small, he's certainly not the most fit person around. scrambling to make it to the end of the hall as the smile falls from his face. he unfortunately trips over his own feet, falling to the floor and taking a few seconds to appraise the situation... before accepting his inevitable defeat and really hoping someone sues the shit out of this place.
it's not until the walls stop and the trap door opens and apollo screams the entire way down, loudly and defeaning (and really quite terrified for his life) that he realizes it was all just part of the haunted house. once he lands flat on his face in the basement area of the house, pushing himself up as he brushes dusts off and mutters curses under his breath.) There has got to be something illegal about this, and I'm going to have a stern talk with whoever's in charge when I get out of here.
(iii.)
(apollo justice does not believe in ghosts. ghosts have nothing concrete to back up their existence, nothing solid, all conjecture and circumstantial evidence at best. and that's being generous. he certainly does a double take at the first "sighting" of one, seeming to have materialized out of nowhere into his field of vision. so he does what any sensible human being would do.
he walks off campus and ignores the ghost outright. he's probably just tired, the light is playing tricks on his eyes, it could be any number of things! GHOSTS. ARE NOT. REAL. anyone unlucky enough to be passing by apollo will hear him mumbling this to himself over and over. "objection, ghosts are not real". like a mantra to help keep himself sane.
he reaches for his phone in his pants pocket, just looking for something to distract him from the small little section of chaos he's found himself in. but then something is wrong. something is very wrong. he pats down every possible pocket on his person before whipping around, staring down the street and glaring at the spirit that's been giving him such a headache.) Hey! You stole my phone, you stupid specter! Get back here!
(of course, yelling and accusing the ghost that's the subject of his misfortune probably isn't the wisest idea. he's setting himself up for a lot of pranks after this.)
(iv.)
(the foggy weather hardly gets apollo down. he enjoys chilly weather, bundling up in a coat and scarf to protect himself from the elements. and a haunted hayride through a particularly spooky forest? sign him up!!
the stories aren't uniquely fascinating to him, more making him roll his eyes at the silliness of it than anything. please, if a crazy woman really did chase her husband off a cliff, she would have been arrested in a heartbeat. it's just ridiculous! he laughs off the stories more than anything, choosing instead to admire the faintly spooky scenery surrounding him and any other passengers.
but then he gets a chill down his spine, and he's certain it's not from the cold. he's far too bundled up, after all. apollo's own name is softly whispered in his ear more than once, causing him to turn around into the forest, and then the person sitting beside him.) Did you hear that?
(barely, just barely, he turns his head to behind the cart, spotting... something. he can't be sure what it is, the outline it too fudged to clearly make out, and at points like this, he'd rather not make eye contact with whatever might be intentionally following the cart. he faces forward, remaining still and forcing himself not to turn around again.) Something's following us. I don't know if... it is friendly or not. We may have to run.
(WILDCARD if you want a different prompt, please let me know! you can contact me at autumnpastries)
apollo justice // ace attorney
(ii.)
(apollo, despite his usual serious demeanor, is actually a fan of haunted houses. nothing helps someone unwind more than a good old fashioned scare. at least, in apollo's book. he's bouncing on his feet in excitement as he enters, turning every which way to take in all the horrifying decorations. the way he's inspecting everything, it's as though he's trying to get scared. and he is.
eventually, he comes upon one of the aforementioned hallways of mirrors. taking a moment to laugh at his own appearance in the reflections, he then notices the walls beginning to close in on him. and while apollo may be young and small, he's certainly not the most fit person around. scrambling to make it to the end of the hall as the smile falls from his face. he unfortunately trips over his own feet, falling to the floor and taking a few seconds to appraise the situation... before accepting his inevitable defeat and really hoping someone sues the shit out of this place.
it's not until the walls stop and the trap door opens and apollo screams the entire way down, loudly and defeaning (and really quite terrified for his life) that he realizes it was all just part of the haunted house. once he lands flat on his face in the basement area of the house, pushing himself up as he brushes dusts off and mutters curses under his breath.) There has got to be something illegal about this, and I'm going to have a stern talk with whoever's in charge when I get out of here.
(iii.)
(apollo justice does not believe in ghosts. ghosts have nothing concrete to back up their existence, nothing solid, all conjecture and circumstantial evidence at best. and that's being generous. he certainly does a double take at the first "sighting" of one, seeming to have materialized out of nowhere into his field of vision. so he does what any sensible human being would do.
he walks off campus and ignores the ghost outright. he's probably just tired, the light is playing tricks on his eyes, it could be any number of things! GHOSTS. ARE NOT. REAL. anyone unlucky enough to be passing by apollo will hear him mumbling this to himself over and over. "objection, ghosts are not real". like a mantra to help keep himself sane.
he reaches for his phone in his pants pocket, just looking for something to distract him from the small little section of chaos he's found himself in. but then something is wrong. something is very wrong. he pats down every possible pocket on his person before whipping around, staring down the street and glaring at the spirit that's been giving him such a headache.) Hey! You stole my phone, you stupid specter! Get back here!
(of course, yelling and accusing the ghost that's the subject of his misfortune probably isn't the wisest idea. he's setting himself up for a lot of pranks after this.)
(iv.)
(the foggy weather hardly gets apollo down. he enjoys chilly weather, bundling up in a coat and scarf to protect himself from the elements. and a haunted hayride through a particularly spooky forest? sign him up!!
the stories aren't uniquely fascinating to him, more making him roll his eyes at the silliness of it than anything. please, if a crazy woman really did chase her husband off a cliff, she would have been arrested in a heartbeat. it's just ridiculous! he laughs off the stories more than anything, choosing instead to admire the faintly spooky scenery surrounding him and any other passengers.
but then he gets a chill down his spine, and he's certain it's not from the cold. he's far too bundled up, after all. apollo's own name is softly whispered in his ear more than once, causing him to turn around into the forest, and then the person sitting beside him.) Did you hear that?
(barely, just barely, he turns his head to behind the cart, spotting... something. he can't be sure what it is, the outline it too fudged to clearly make out, and at points like this, he'd rather not make eye contact with whatever might be intentionally following the cart. he faces forward, remaining still and forcing himself not to turn around again.) Something's following us. I don't know if... it is friendly or not. We may have to run.
(WILDCARD if you want a different prompt, please let me know! you can contact me at