[Good day, Luceti. I hope you didn't have any outdoor plans today; or if you did, hopefully you're willing to brave the outside with the weather as it is. It's dark and terribly windy, with ominous clouds hanging overhead - the
Wicked Witch Ororo seems to have decided that no sun shall shine over the village until she feels like it. She much
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...and then she sees just who Storm has tied up and feels even less inclined to rescue him. But oh geeze.
Well. She might as well make sure Ororo's not going to do anything that they will all later... be glad she did.]
An' just what do you have planned ta do with the... princesses?
[Best. Dress. Ever. Clearly.]
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[Not that it's obvious or anything, as Storm speaks with self-assured authority.]
There's no need to worry, Rogue. No harm will befall them as I only wish to talk. [Right now, anyway. Experiment or no, Storm can't bring herself to hurt innocents.]
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Oh. All right.
[...]
Why? They can't be very good conversationalists.
[Especially all bound and gagged like Dragneto.]
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Perhaps, perhaps not. Still, someone has to show them the error of their ways. [Especially since like two-thirds of the princesses out there are men, Rogue. Men, masquerading as princesses in ballgowns! Can you believe it.]
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Why are you capturing them? [Although really, it still doesn't sound like cares very much.]
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What should it matter to you, little bird?
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Maybe it matters and maybe it doesn't. You answer my question first if you want an answer back, eh.
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A fair trade. Very well, I shall tell you, little bird. [until she sees you up close, you'll be little to her, apparently.]
These princesses are mistaken, you see. They're not princesses at all.
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