[ The video starts with the sound of a whipcrack, coming from a young woman who is obviously wielding a whip. There's a hint of annoyance on her face, but not enough to make a normal individual decide that it's a proper time to use a whip. She stretches it over her head, making the leather snap. Then she rolls the whip on her hands with ease before placing it to her side.
If you're starting to get that feeling that you're faced with someone who whips things just because she can, trust that feeling. You're probably right. ]
While I do remember saying that I would go wherever I'm needed, it seems that I wasn't clear enough for the fools who run this failure of a fantasy novel plot. I will go wherever I'm needed provided that I give my prior consent. Gods or not, they're clearly guilty of kidnapping.
[ And as easily as she snapped and put away her whip, she starts to smile. ]
But I suppose I do owe you people an introduction, since it seems like we're all stuck here for the meantime. I am Franziska von Karma, the prodigy prosecutor. I've been told that, despite it's logical impossibility, we might come from different worlds. Should one of you not know what a prosecutor is, I suggest that you educate yourselves in the local library. The lack of color shouldn't hinder your ability to read, unless you're the type of person who requires the aid of silly, colorful illustrations.
I would ask for your names and occupations, but it's only polite to introduce yourselves after being introduced to, isn't it? And it seems like it's customary here to end your first transmission with an inane question on topics such as "look at my inability to read a map and find things for myself" and chicken... nuggets. [ It's clear that she finds the latter topic very strange.] So I ask you this, people of Asgard:
Suppose that you find a box of cake left under the rain. What will you do?
[ Baldr people, she might have whipped a small dent onto one of the kitchen tables. It took a lot of hits. She's not sorry.
Meanwhile, I apologize for asking about cake in the rain. ]
If you're starting to get that feeling that you're faced with someone who whips things just because she can, trust that feeling. You're probably right. ]
While I do remember saying that I would go wherever I'm needed, it seems that I wasn't clear enough for the fools who run this failure of a fantasy novel plot. I will go wherever I'm needed provided that I give my prior consent. Gods or not, they're clearly guilty of kidnapping.
[ And as easily as she snapped and put away her whip, she starts to smile. ]
But I suppose I do owe you people an introduction, since it seems like we're all stuck here for the meantime. I am Franziska von Karma, the prodigy prosecutor. I've been told that, despite it's logical impossibility, we might come from different worlds. Should one of you not know what a prosecutor is, I suggest that you educate yourselves in the local library. The lack of color shouldn't hinder your ability to read, unless you're the type of person who requires the aid of silly, colorful illustrations.
I would ask for your names and occupations, but it's only polite to introduce yourselves after being introduced to, isn't it? And it seems like it's customary here to end your first transmission with an inane question on topics such as "look at my inability to read a map and find things for myself" and chicken... nuggets. [ It's clear that she finds the latter topic very strange.] So I ask you this, people of Asgard:
Suppose that you find a box of cake left under the rain. What will you do?
[ Baldr people, she might have whipped a small dent onto one of the kitchen tables. It took a lot of hits. She's not sorry.
Meanwhile, I apologize for asking about cake in the rain. ]
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