[There is a very pronounced rustle of taffeta skirts and ivory satin, followed by a huff of a rather perturbed lady. The accent that comes forth is upper-crust London, make no mistake.]
Of all the bothers. To wake up in the middle of some -- some wasteland! How very unnecessary and inefficient. One must hope, if one is kidnapped, to have the
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Are you asking me for lessons? I can assure you, good sir, that I would not be the one to consult, nor can I direct you to someone who makes a regular and successful practice of it -- though the wax man continues to attempt it.
Perhaps you could speak to him, if he does have a voice.
[She gives a shudder of disgust.]
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I take it you are new to this place. Welcome to Adstringendum.
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[A small smile.]
It seems so. What a curious name for a city. Latin?
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And to whom am I speaking?
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How do you do?
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[She snaps her parasol, agitatedly.]
Please, do continue.
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[Give her a moment, and she will settle herself down within her mass of skirts on a half-broken wall, parasol at her side.]
And who might you be, young man?
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-=He's more or less polite. She's a lady of breeding, and he can tell.=-
Edward Elric, ma'am. And you are?
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[She nods, politely.]
Alexia Tarabotti, Mr. Elric. A pleasure.
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Really, dear, perhaps we should start with introductions.
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Alexia Tarabotti. A pleasure, Miss Sango. And... what is this manner of creature?
[Blunt, but utterly curious.]
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