Franziska Von Karma

justicescales :

perfektionists :

“Very well. I shall follow you. Hmmm… a hired kill? At least there is a witness. That is more than we can say for most of these cases, as I am sure you very well know.”

Y34H

TH4TS WHY 1TS SO T1M3 S3NS1T1V3

[You start walking, leading her out of the apartment complex and down the street.]

WH4T W3 KNOW SO F4R 1S TH4T TH3R3 W4S 4 CH3RRY FL4VOR3D POSTC4RD L3FT 4T TH3 SC3N3

W3 TH1NK TH3 4TT4CK3R F41L3D TH3 K1LL ON PURPOS3, BUT W3 H4V3 Y3T TO F1GUR3 OUT WHY–

[You continued talking even despite “cherry” being the keyword. It’s amazing how you made all of this shit up on the spot and didn’t even waver or crack a smirk as you knew what was about to happen.]

==> @thirdsonofkou

He’d long since chalked it up to her unique experiences in surviving her culture back home, but even among the trolls he knew of, it seemed to Kouha that Terezi was a lot more apt at keeping a poker face than most.  It had always been more than a little impressive in his mind, and he was sure she knew it, but in moments like these, it was always something to wonder over.

Then again, it wasn’t often the young former prince went about kidnapping people off the street.

Once she casually gave the signal, Kouha darted out behind the pair and closed in fast, slipping between the pair to grab both Franziska’s and Terezi’s hands as he passed before he started to drag them down the street.

“Long time, no see, Frannie. Try to keep up, all right? We’ve got places to be.”

Before she realizes what is taking place, soft fingers close around her wrist. An affronted gasp leaves her lips at the intrusion, and she’s ready to fight off her captor when she realizes that it’s...

“Ren Kouha. What is the meaning of this? Have you come to escort us to the body?”

perfektionists :

She eyes her friend suspiciously. She knows very well what day this is – her least favorite day of the year.

“…Is that so? I believe I would prefer to know more about the situation you speak of, first.”

OF COURS3

WHY WOULD YOU TRUST1NGLY FOLLOW YOUR B3ST FR13ND 1NTO 4 T1M3 S3NS1T1V3 S1TU4T1ON W1THOUT TH3 FULL H4LF 4N HOUR SUMM4RY OF 3V3NTS

C4N W3 4T L34ST W4LK 4S 1 T4LK?

TH3R3 W4S 4 ST4BB1NG

W3 TH1NK 1T W4S 4 H1R3D K1LL

BUT TH3 H1T F41L3D 4ND TH3 V1CT1M 1S ST1LL CONSC1OUS

W3 H4V3 TO QU3ST1ON H3R B3FOR3 TH3Y S3D4T3 H3R

@perfektionists

K4RM4L

TH3R3 1S 4 GR4V3S1TU4T1ON TH4T 1 N33D YOUR PROF3SS1ON4L 4SS1ST4NC3 W1TH

W3 MUST B4N TOG3TH3R NOW, 3V3N DUR1NG SUCH D1R3 T1M3S, 1N TH3 PURSU1T OF JUST1C3

W1LL YOU 4CCOMP4NY M3?

She eyes her friend suspiciously. She knows very well what day this is -- her least favorite day of the year.

perfektionists:

He looks in concern at her newly-acquired child. It moves in her arms, and she resists the urge to give it to him, to just make him deal with it. 

“I… I don’t know! It was all a part of this foolish event and the scientist fools and their tomfoolery!”

Her words carry a heightened drama, and she curses the fact that this man always finds her at her weakest moments. She must sound quite frantic as she struggles to explain this completely illogical situation.

A deep breath. She must remain calm, lest this infant wake and begin screaming. She doesn’t know how she would deal with that.

“…You are right. This is a dangerous place to discuss such a topic. I don’t think, though, that this child has an ‘original owner.’”

“An event by the scientists? You mean like the one during Halloween?”

Even after months of being trapped in this city, Amon can barely grasp on that idea that these humans have created a machine that is able to bend reality. These scientists have ascended to a god-like status with this feat, but aren’t the benevolent ones that Amon is familiar with.

Before they proceeded, Amon takes the bundle off of Franziska’s arms, frightened to whatever she may do to it especially with her temper.

“It’s a possibility that it doesn’t have an owner, but we shouldn’t rule out that factor.”

The investigator scratches the top of the ‘child’s’ head, running his fingers gently over its ‘hair’ and lets one rest under its chin. “Besides, it looks pampered enough to have one. I’ve yet to see a stray look that well-groomed.”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I mean.”

She cannot help but feel a rush of gratitude as he takes the child from her arms, though the way he speaks about the child illustrates how awkward he himself feels in such situations. Still, she feels less of this strange anxiety pressing upon her chest with the tiny human out of her hands. How does anyone learn parenting? Franziska thinks of her own family and suppresses a bitter laugh.

Thirteen-year-old Franziska von Karma does not particularly like children. She, of course, is practically a grown-up -- she’ll be earning her prosecutor’s badge in just a few months, and maybe her papa will be proud of her. What’s more, she’ll beat Miles Edgeworth and become the youngest ever prosecutor, so he can just enjoy his shiny badge for now.

She doesn’t understand why she’s in such a foolishly crumbling city, but being the perfectly intelligent young woman that she is, she’ll be able to solve the mystery in mere moments. Perhaps if Miles Edgeworth is here, they can make it into a competition, one which she’ll surely win. Or perhaps, she could just find her papa and ask him...

She’s pondering these options when she nearly trips over a broken chunk of presumably used to be a building. Fortunately, she manages to catch herself before she falls, but she sees some little brat who probably saw everything. If he’s judging her, then he should first learn who he’s judging!

perfektionists:

@dainokishi

Her, a mother? It’s a foolish notion, indeed. What could she know of parenting, this little girl who fought hard to earn the scraps of her father’s attention? She stares at the little being cradled in her arms, what must be the cruel result of a foolish decision to participate in a foolish event. (But she does not remember searching for eggs… What is going on?) 

Regardless, it seems she cannot relinquish her duties. There seems to be an invisible “link,” something connecting her to this child. Quite frankly, it horrifies her.

Her eyes bear an uncharacteristic franticness as she gazes at the crumbling city, desperately seeking help. The figure of a familiar man draws her to his side; he has helped her in the past, which makes her reluctant to approach him, but he has a fatherly aura about him. At the very least, he seems like he should know more about this predicament than her.

“Mister Amon. As you can see, I have someone acquired this… thing. I will require your assistance in caring for it.”

Amon looks at Franziska with a puzzled expression, glancing to the small bundle of joy(?) then back again at the young prosecutor. It’s almost comical the way he executes this. There are many things to comment on and the investigator doesn’t know where to begin. Perhaps addressing the elephant in the room would be a good start.

“Where did you find this?” Amon gestures at the ‘thing’ Franziska is holding, there’s a hint of worriness in his voice, both for Franziska and for the bundle.

It’s obviously not hers even though she looks like the type of person who would acquire one and she seems to be responsible enough to raise one herself, but assuming things like this may lead to disastrous results so he stops before it gets to that point.

“Right now isn’t a good place to help you with your problem so it’s best we relocate to the shelter. Maybe we’ll even find the original owner there.”

He looks in concern at her newly-acquired child. It moves in her arms, and she resists the urge to give it to him, to just make him deal with it. 

“I... I don’t know! It was all a part of this foolish event and the scientist fools and their tomfoolery!”

Her words carry a heightened drama, and she curses the fact that this man always finds her at her weakest moments. She must sound quite frantic as she struggles to explain this completely illogical situation.

A deep breath. She must remain calm, lest this infant wake and begin screaming. She doesn’t know how she would deal with that.

It’s a good thing that Franziska is skilled in the ways of the whip. Her trusty weapon has already fended off a number of Pariah; these lawless monsters do not stand a chance against her. The sweat and flush in her cheeks is simply a... dewy glow. 

She’s made it halfway down the main street when she notices one citizen having a much easier time of this.

Her, a mother? It’s a foolish notion, indeed. What could she know of parenting, this little girl who fought hard to earn the scraps of her father’s attention? She stares at the little being cradled in her arms, what must be the cruel result of a foolish decision to participate in a foolish event. (But she does not remember searching for eggs... What is going on?) 

Regardless, it seems she cannot relinquish her duties. There seems to be an invisible “link,” something connecting her to this child. Quite frankly, it horrifies her.

Her eyes bear an uncharacteristic franticness as she gazes at the crumbling city, desperately seeking help. The figure of a familiar man draws her to his side; he has helped her in the past, which makes her reluctant to approach him, but he has a fatherly aura about him. At the very least, he seems like he should know more about this predicament than her.

[I’ve been terribly inactive with Fran, but I really do want to rescue her muse. I’m hoping that this event will help with that, so here’s a plotter call! I’ll cap at 3!

Here are a few ideas I’ve come up with:

Home is Where the Heartache featuring a court system run amuck. Goodbye, dreams of home.

Hacktuality and personality glitches!

Nativity and Franziska asking advice on HOW DO YOU CARE FOR A CHILD. WHAT IS THIS. WHY IS THIS HAPPENING.

SO YEAH HERE’S A THREADLIST (and lots of apologies to everyone)

K4RM4L

1M B4CK

[You don’t know if Kouha told her that he found you while you were passed out, but you haven’t gotten to talk to her since you woke up.  You offer her a wrapped box.]

M3RRY L4T3 CHR1STM4S

[Inside she’ll find a pastel blue Scalemate with black eyes and a white belly.]

H3R N4M3 1S PUN1SH3R L1COR1C3SC4L3, BUT SH3 1S 4 CR1M1N4L WHO 4BUS3D H3R POW3RS, SO F33L FR33 TO 3N4CT JUST1C3!

“Terezi Pyrope... I am grateful that you have returned and are well.”

She removes the stuffed dragon and cannot keep a smile from creeping onto her lips. 

“Her color scheme is perfect. While I am not usually one for toys, I believe I can make an exception in this case.”

Franziska allows herself to give the Punisher a soft squeeze. In front of anyone else, such an action would be intolerable, but Terezi Pyrope has earned her trust. She gives her friend a brief hug.

“Yes, it has been a while.”

A foolish fool he may be, but she cannot deny that she’s touched he went through the trouble to get her something.

“It is a nice bag indeed. Do not think that my whip shall remain within it, however, if there is justice to be done.”

“Thank you, Maya Fey. They are not bad at all.”