001 | video

[5055034455]

[Good morning, Heropa. Greeting you today is a man with a bright smile and an even brighter shirt — aqua, with a tie that seems to match only in theory — and a look in his eye that twinkles with confidence and certainty. Yes, here is a man who is not at all questioning this place and its motives; here is a man who is totally okay with the situation in which he's found himself; here is a man who is a very good, very convincing faker.]

Greetings and salutations, fellow ImPorts! Allow me to introduce myself: Saul Goodman, attorney at law and soon-to-be judge. I want you all to be able to think of me as a resource — as someone whose purpose here is to assist where and when I can, at least as far as legal issues are concerned. For consultation purposes only, though; I won't... uh, really have the time to open my own practice here, unfortunately.

[And that does seem like something that upsets him, but he allows that emotion in for all of two seconds before dismissing it and focusing back on sounding genuine and honest. Which he is, to some degree. It's just... kind of rare, is all. But this is what happens when you don't want to upset your kidnappers: You do what you think you have to.]

Anyway, I'm gonna have to spend some time catching up on what's actually going on in this place, legally and politically speaking. There are other lawyers and legal professional-types around, right? We should chat. Oh, and for all you daytime TV-watchers —

[THERE THEY ARE. THE FINGERGUNS.]

Get used to seeing this face.

Comments

[darwinatrix]

Yes, I can see why an utter lack of shame would help with that.

[5055034455]

I take it you're not the entrepreneurial type.

[darwinatrix]

If that makes you feel better about it, I don't care how you think of me.

[5055034455]

Well, I know you're not in business. What is it you do?

[darwinatrix]

Major-General Olivier Mira Armstrong.

I imagine you can figure it out from that.

[5055034455]

Hoo, that's a mouthful. Hiya, Major-General. I see you're in the business of intimidation, is that right?

[darwinatrix]

It helps in my line of work, sure.

[5055034455]

Major-General...

[He trails off, thinking.]

Is that Army?

[darwinatrix]

Sure is.

[5055034455]

Whose?

[darwinatrix]

The Northern Army of Amestris.

You haven't heard of it.

[5055034455]

No I haven't. You gonna tell me about it?

[darwinatrix]

That depends on what you want to know.

[5055034455]

We'll start simple: Is it on Earth?

[darwinatrix]

Yes.

Not this one.

[5055034455]

I figured. I'm no good with geography, but I don't think there's anywhere called Amestris where I'm from. A town somewhere, maybe...

[darwinatrix]

It's a country.

If you hadn't heard of Drachma, Aerugo or Creta where I'd from, you'd be an idiot.

[5055034455]

[Saul has a knack for being accused of that anyway.]

What year is it, for you?

[darwinatrix]

1915. Doesn't change anything. I looked it up; these countries weren't around then, anyway.

[5055034455]

Huh. Weird. Never thought I'd find myself in a serious conversation about alternate Earths...

[darwinatrix]

And yet.

Any other questions?

[5055034455]

No, ma'am.

[Did he do it right? Or is he supposed to say "sir"?]

[darwinatrix]

[It's reflexive.] Sir.

[It's her own personal hangups, really.]

[5055034455]

Sorry, sorry. Sir.

[J-jeez.]

[darwinatrix]

Good. Don't do it again.

[She's... sort of intense. Sorry, Saul.]