flying through clouds of uncertainty on wings of existential dread
Tiny Rogue seeks enlightenment.
Tiny Rogue finds Serenity.
Oops, wrong Serenity.
Tiny Rogue moves to the trailer park. That’s what happens when you hang out with Gambit, cher.
Tiny Rogue sniffs markers. (Wrong kind, though.)
Tiny Rogue has an awkward middle school dance with Bobble-Head Geisha.
She’s ok. X-Men never stay dead for long.
Tiny Rogue discovers why it’s bigger on the inside.
Oh, right, that one. That is not Tiny Rogue. That’s me as Italian Renaissance Rogue, because what mutant hasn’t accidentally ended up traveling back in time, probably because of something Cyclops did? By the way, if anyone wants to dress up as super-skeevy Gambit with a giant codpiece the next time I wear this, that would be great. I would also accept Wolverine in yellow and black slops.
I’m going back to sleep now.