[The video comes in with the top half of Tyki's face hidden, perfect lips grinning almost darkly. His aristocratic looking figure was seated rather comfortably with his left leg crossed over the right, a gloved hand extending to let a very familiar black Butterfly perch on his fingers. Two more fluttered about him, and his grin only grew wider.]
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So...
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These... are yours?
...
An exercise in futility... setting them loose on a town... where death is only a minor inconveniance.
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... Yes.
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What... if I may ask... are they?
[Because he's not buying the plain old butterfly act]
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... I see.
... And... how... are they created?
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[Merely watches boredly, uncaring in the least of all the questions.]
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As is with all things in nature.
[And with that, the video feed shuts off. He has work to do]
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