//------------------------------// // Prologue // Story: ???: Ace Attorney: Turnabout Buttons // by Magic Step //------------------------------// It was nearly an hour past the colt’s bedtime, but he couldn’t sleep. His dad had promised he’d be home before sunset; meanwhile, everypony in elementary school who’d heard where his dad had gone had been only too happy to update him on all the rumors about that town. Where was he? The colt studied the streets outside their home in Discovery Quarter; the trademark electric lights made the outside bright as day. All was quiet. The door behind him creaked open. “Biiiiiiiiig brother! You should be in bed!” an obnoxious high pitched voice squeaked behind him. “Hypocrite,” the colt muttered darkly, not wanting to look at her. “If you stay up can I stay up with you?” “Get lost before I sock you,” the colt snapped. “Do that and daddy will kill you.” The filly scrambled up onto the window seat beside him, her lavender curls bouncing. “Do you really think gold grows under rainbows in Luckfield?” “Don’t talk to me. Get off my window seat.” “It’s not yours; it belongs to both of us. Besides, I don’t get one in my room.” The colt tried to push her off. “Go away you pest!” She braced herself against the wall. “Look, it’s Daddy!” she cried delightedly. “I’m not falling for that trick—” The sound of a rattling carriage made his ears prick up, and he whirled around. He was just able to catch a glimpse of the taxi as it rolled past his window to the front door. A moment later, the bell rang. “He’s home!” His sister scrambled off the window seat and dashed downstairs, her little pink nightgown fluttering. Annoyed, the colt dashed after her, but by the time he reached the front door, she’d gotten there first. “Daddy!” his sister cried, throwing her little forelegs around their father’s large one, delight shining in her eyes. Sickening. “How’s my little rosebud?” the unicorn stallion said, swinging her into the air and letting his saddlebags slide to the ground. His sister giggled with delight. The colt stood awkwardly on the stairs, clinging to the bannister, watching them, listening to his sister’s joyful shrieks, waiting to see if his dad would notice him, wondering if his dad would be interested in the new firework he’d built. His mom and sister were both afraid of fire; his dad was the only one who didn’t think he was dangerous just for having a pyrotechnical cutie mark. So if he was going to show the new firework to anypony, it would have to be now. Any time now… His father set the small filly down. “You’re such a refreshing sight…” “Was it really that bad, Daddy?” The filly oozed fake concern out of her adorable expression. It made the colt feel sick. His father had a pained expression for a second, then smiled tiredly. “Don’t worry about it. Look, I brought you a present!” The filly squealed in delight. “What you bring me?” Their father rummaged around in his saddlebags and pulled out a small plush pony. It was made from red fabric with a mane of yellow yarn. Its eyes were grey buttons. His sister grabbed the doll away and hugged it tightly. “I love it! It looks just like you, daddy!” “Yes, I know. Down to the tiny embroidered cutie mark… though a single gear isn’t that unusual a symbol. Once I saw it I knew I wouldn’t take no for an answer; I had to have it.” “Thank you so much!” His sister hugged their father around his foreleg. The colt glared at the small plushie, boring holes into it with his eyes. Nursing bitter thoughts, he retreated upstairs to get ready for bed, as invisibly as he arrived. *** “You really have to leave, Daddy?” The colt rolled over in bed, annoyed at the sound of her voice. “This is a super important investor’s meeting, sweetie.” “But Saturday is Dad-erday!” “Ha ha, usually, pumpkin, but we’re so close to getting my Wonderbutton machine patented. Surely you know how hard it is to wait for something you’ve looked forward to forever?” “Ok… will you bring me back some taffy to make up for it?” “I’ll see what I can do. Thanks for being understanding, sweetie.” Then a loud slurpy goodbye kiss. “Make sure your lazy brother gets his homework done and maybe we can spend the evening together.” The colt sat bolt upright. Hay no. He dashed into the bathroom and started brushing his teeth. “Rocket Pack, Daddy says-” The colt spat into the sink. “I know what he said, you little worm.” His sister gasped dramatically. “That hurts my feelings!” “Good; I’ll say it more often.” The colt filled his mouth with water. “Mommy said you’re not allowed to hurt my feelings anymore. I’m going to go cry to her and you won’t get any donuts today.” “Drop dead.” She stuck her tongue out at him. “Lamia,” he continued. “Baby.” “Just let me have my turn already.” The colt rinsed his toothbrush very slowly. His sister elbowed him out of the way. “Rude baby,” he continued, shuffling out of the bathroom. His sister slammed the door shut behind him. Breakfast wasn’t any better. She cried that his donut was bigger than hers, then took all the milk in revenge. When he’d tipped the glass over onto her coat, mom sent him to his room to think about what he’d done. But he decided not to go to his room. He went to his sister’s instead. Sitting on her bed was the red rag doll from the night before. Its blank button eyes stared at the colt. What an ugly thing; why had his father spent so much money for a scrappy doll like that? Impulsively, he grabbed the doll and brought it to his room. He rummaged through his cabinet and found his long, gun-like lighter. Clomp clomp clomp went his sister’s hooves up the steps. Unconcerned, the colt messed with the trigger until a small flame appeared. Now, what to set on fire first? The ears or the tail? As he held the torch to the yellow yarn sewn to the rear, the door slammed open. “Rocket! You took my- Rocket!!” The note of genuine panic in his sister’s voice made him break into a grin. “Too late now, little brat.” “No!” she wailed as the flames spread up the tail. *** “…and the thread passes from this hook to that hook and then around the button…” “I see,” the patent officer said, adjusting his huge spectacles. He circled the crocodile-sized machine. “I recognize this button design, though, and you do not own it.” “Ah… I deconstructed a Dorset button as a sample pattern for the machine,” the red-coated pony admitted. “I was hoping to enter a partnership with them—goodness knows Lucktown needs the help—but they were… you know how they are. I’ll swap the program out for an original design before I—aah!” He whirled around and jumped away, nearly crashing into the inspector. “Mr. Innovation!” The officer cried. “What on earth is wrong with you?” The red coated pony didn’t answer. After a brief baffled look at his tail, he started writhing, then rolling on the floor. *** “Give it back!” his sister screamed, trying to snatch the doll from the air. The colt laughed, hovering it just out of her grasp. The flames were consuming the hind legs now. “What a wuss.” *** The red coated pony’s screams had now attracted a small crowd. “What is wrong with him!?” The secretary had to shout in order to be heard. “I don’t know!” the patent officer shouted back. The red coated pony’s hind legs suddenly locked up. Then, like magic, burn blisters and black charred fur spread up his legs, working towards his chest. Everypony cried out in shock. *** “I said give it back!” With a mighty leap, the girl snatch the doll from the air and tossed it to the ground. Instinctively, she put out the fire by stomping hard on the flames. *** The red coated pony’s head snapped to attention and his screams were cut short by sudden gasps for air as his whole body convulsed, like a giant was crushing him, once, twice, three times. Then the screaming stopped; his head fell limply to one side, and blood bubbled from his mouth in a gurgle of pain. The watching crowd was in stunned silence for one second longer. Then a young unicorn mare pushed her way to the front, her horn already lit, surrounding the injured pony in a gray aura. “You,” she said, pointing to the stunned patent officer, “send for a paramedic. Now!” As he hastily scribbled out a note, the crowd devolved into a flurry of conversation. What kind of monster would do such a thing? *** The little sister lay on her bed, curled protectively around the injured doll. Her eyes were burning coals as she glared at her brother. “You’ll regret this.” “Fat chance,” the colt retorted.