10157/Relaxing in the Rec Room

Relaxing in the Rec Room
Date of Scene:	22 November 2019
Location:	Rec Room - Xavier's School
Synopsis:	Good coffee, good company, good times all around! Featuring Andrea, Illyana, Gwendolyn, Megan, Brad, Nathaniel, and Shannon!
Cast of Characters:	Rage, Dragonfly (Armenteros), Hindsight, Nightingale, Magik, Pixie, Haunt

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Rage has posed:
As the rain comes down outside in a cold and dreary manner, it makes going outside unappeasing. Andrea is currently downstairs in the rec room with a journal in her hands, scribbling away at the pages as she lays sprawled out on the couch with a pillow tucked behind her head for leverage. Today she is wearing her usual blue skinny jeans with a vanilla colored sweater. Her hair has been neatly cut recently with a few shades of red streaks in her bangs.

Next to her is a phone docked into a speaker, playing some current music on the radio of popular hits, tapping her foot away as it dangles precariously over the edge of the couch arm.

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
New York was supposed to have snow. That was in the brochures, movies, and TV that Gwendolyn consumed over her youth, so the rain showing up after snow was both a shock and unwelcomed. All the beautiful snow was being washed away and, with the promise of freezing weather for the rest of the week, the threat of ice glazing just about everything was very real. In class, she even asked if they should go get bread and milk since that was the thing everyone did back home when there was even the smallest threat of a freeze, but was told that they didn't do that here.

Now, with classes mostly over for the day, Gwendolyn had ended up in the rec room with Andrea. Instead of taking notes in a book - which is something she is doing, mind you - she's working on something with knitting needles. Using the music to keep time, the clicking of the needles as she works on row after row of stitches using a heavy-gauge merino wool yarn.

Hindsight has posed:
    Day Two: Exploration.

    If the girls had spent most of their day in classes or in the recreation room, they may have missed the presumably new student, Nathaniel Carver. He was taking a tour of the school, accompanied by a staffer when he went to see the Danger Room and occupied classrooms, but he insisted he could handle the rest.

    Plus, he didn't want to leave the rec room anytime soon. Dressed in tastefully ripped jeans and a loose-fitting black t-shirt, the young man drops down on a couch adjacent to Andrea and Gwendolyn. "You know, when they told me Andrea Jackson was at this school, I had my doubts," He opens, with a grin. Nathaniel is an Asian-American teenager, his most memorable feature is his hair. White as newly fallen snow.

Rage has posed:
Glancing upwards at the sound of the voice, Andrea shifts up a bit and spins the pen about in her fingers as it dances along her knuckles. "Hey there. It's not known to the public of course. Far as the world knows, I'm just home schooling and out on tour." Her brows lift upwards as she glances at his hair, grinning. "So, I'm Andrea. Who're you?" She asks as she extends her hand out to him for a shake.

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
Gwendolyn looks up from her spot on the couch near Andrea. She looks relatively normal, aside from a few obvious physical differences. "Don't let it get out, of course." She says with a smile, looking over for a second, her eyes covered by a visor much like the one worn by Cyclops. "We'd have TMZ here in an instant, scouring the campus for news about dalliances in the shower, or boys she's chasing, or something."

Hindsight has posed:
    "Nathaniel," The boy offers and shakes Andrea's hand. He's wearing gloves, of course, so it's not an issue. "That's so cool. I didn't know I was a mutant when you came out as one, but like. Props to you. I heard Dazzler's here too? Which is wild."

    "Naturally," Nathanial turns to Gwendolyn with the same grin. "Faculty was upfront about the need for secrecy. Can't even talk about stuff with my dad," His mouth twists, in vague distaste. "Not that he'd care, anyway. What's your name?"

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
Setting her knitting aside - what seems to be a long scarf in dark gray and a slightly less dark gray - Gwendolyn reaches out to shake the offered hand. "Gwendolyn Armenteros." Her grip is strong and her sleeve comes up a little as she reaches out, revealing dark green plates on the outside of her forearms, like implanted armor. "It's nice to meet you, Nathaniel."

Rage has posed:
"So is Mason Steele, my ex-boyfriend." Andrea says. Mason, the bad boy of popmusic who tried to kill himself a few years back after their big blow up and her hot single Backstabber hit the radio. "Pretty much if you're a mutant popstar, you live here." She says with a giggle. "Dazzler is my idol, and having her here freaks me out. I have performed all over the world in front of thousands and I don't blink. But when /she/ walks down the hallway, I turn into a dumb fangirl who squeals and cries and gets all stomach fluttery. It's hilarious and embarassing."

"You're wearing gloves inside. Mutant related or germa-phobe? Just so I know and don't upset you or cause an uproar by accident." She asks as she motions to his hands. Her mutant power is unknown to the public as well. They just know she's a Disney girl next door who has a secret M attached to her name. Probably why she still has a fanbase.

"I'm also not chasing boys, and no, I /never/ dated a member from Fate. I was just asked out by Steven Ryker, but I never actually followed up on it. You hug a guy once at a reward show and people goes nuts."

Hindsight has posed:
    "As they should," Nathanial says to Andrea, chuckling. "The fans need to know." Glancing at his gloved hands, he nods, more subdued. "Mutant thingz. My abilities are always on, so I have to wear gloves to keep from using them on people or objects. You won't upset me, not by asking.""

    He shakes Gwen's hand, too, and glances at the chitin plates over her arms. "You too. Nice glasses," Or goggles? He isn't sure what to call them. He looks back to Andrea, "You don't have to worry about me babbling like some adoring fan. I'm chill. Now if it were BTS...maybe."

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
Gwendolyn rolls her eyes or, rather, does beneath her goggles, so it just comes off as her rolling her head and shoulders as she sits back in her seat. The bowl with the yarn is repositioned and, soon after, the tell-tale clicking sound of knotting and pearling can be heard. "Mine are on too, most of the time. Without these, I'd basically be overwhelmed by stimulation. You'll find a bunch of us here are working on controlling our powers. I mean..." She lifts one hand, showing the palm to both, a green membrane covering the skin there. "I've just now gotten to where I don't need gloves with one of my abilities. Seeing the past by touching things is...interesting if you just randomly do it to anything you touch. Bathroom door handles...no /thank/ you."

Rage has posed:
"Oh! I love BTS. Do you want their autograph? I'm really good friends with Jungkook. His English is really good and we Facetime once in awhile when he's traveling. I get to live in Korea vicariously through him." Andrea says as she taps along her phone to pull up his contact info, then starts to tap in a text message for her famous friend.

"I got to open for them once when I was first starting out and they are awesome to hang out with. The amount of girls that go ballistic when they see them is crazy. I am so glad I'm not in a boyband."

As she sits up proper now, she grins at Gwen. "I never touch bathroom door handles anyways. I always use a papertowel. Yuck. So, what kinda powers do you have, Nathaniel?"

Hindsight has posed:
In any other circumstance, Nathaniel might gush over Andrea's offer, but something Gwendolyn says seems to have captured the boy's attention. His eyes shift from her hand to the eyes behind the goggles. "That's...I have a similar ability," Answering Andrea's question. He coughs lightly, but continues, "You don't have to wear gloves at all, anymore?"

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
"Hey, I wash my hands and use a paper towel. It's the idea of the thing, not actually doing it." Gwendolyn says with a laugh, smacking Andrea on the shoulder with her knuckles before sitting back in her seat. She turns her palm over to look at it, running a fingertip over it, little scales glinting in the light of the rec room, like a snake's skin. "If I go out in public, I generally wear gloves, but here, where I'm comfortable and safe, I can control it. Basically I'm not randomly picking up images of what happened the last time someone held the remote, or a fork." She looks over to Nathaniel, then to Andrea, one brow quirking behind the goggles before she smiles.

"Okay, silver-age rules." Gwendolyn sits up, crossing her legs beneath her after pushing up a little. "Any time heroes meet, the first thing they do is introduce themselves and share their powerset. I'm Gwendolyn, as we've established. I've got super-sentitive sight and hearing, can fly thanks to dragonfly wings which, if you insist I'll pull out and show off, and occasionally get flashes of the past from objects I touch with my bare hands. There. Silver age introduction done."

Rage has posed:
Grinning at Gwen, Andrea bumps her back, tongue ring clicking against her teeth. "When I'm in public, sometimes I wish I had gloves on. I need to start demanding popstar bathrooms or something on set. I just don't want to come off as needy, but there has been some toilets I've peeked at that's made me hold it a bit longer."

"Silver age rules, huh? Well.. I guess I can tell you mine. It's not public and I don't show it off. But I turn into a...werewolf. Like eight feet tall, horror movie style. Not cute furry cartoon version. I can also turn into a wolf. I have heightened senses, regeneration and allergies to silver and fire."

Hindsight has posed:
    "Yeah, that's pretty much my thing, too. The seeing into the past, I mean. I don't have wings, but if you wanna show me them, feel free," Nathaniel grimaces slightly and rubs his arm. It's the only sign of the nervousness he's trying to keep down. "Does yours work on other people? Mine do, but instead of 'the last time someone held a fork', it's that day two years ago they cheated on their girlfriend. Or something to that effect."

    "You're not supposed to tell us your weaknesses," laughs Nathaniel, nudging Andrea lightly with a gloved hand. "That's for the baddies to find out."

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
"He's right, you know. Weaknesses are supposed to be revealed at the end of the issue as a cliffhanger, or something. Like being against a fire guy and then and discovering that you're more susceptible to heat or something." Yes, Gwen reads comics. What're you gonna do about it? Moving her knitting aside, Gwendolyn gets to her feet, shrugs out of her bulky sweater, and turns her back to the pair. With a shift of her shoulders, organic oragami takes place and two pairs of dragonfly wings extend from just between her shoulderblades, shiver once or twice. "See? Wings." She says with a grin, grabbing her sweater and pulling it on from the front, her wings shifting and then folding back in.

Looking at her hands as she sits down, Gwendolyn can only shrug. "So far it's been more intense things. And only objects, not people. Like, if I touch something that's been in a fight, I'll see the fight easily. If I try to do it with a living person or thing it gets...wierd. Like I'm watching an echo of an echo of a film over everything, since they're putting out memories all the frickin' time."

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
"To be honest, I've not done a lot of exploring with them. Maybe I'll get tapped for a super team or something. Dunno."

Rage has posed:
Pushing Gwen to the side with one hand at the shoulder, Andrea rolls her eyes upwards. "It's important my friends know just in case I may need your help in the instance I am set on fire and you're wondering why I'm in crippling pain instead of shrugging it off like I would a rocket launcher. It's like letting your bestie know you're allergic to bees and it's why you need to stab me in the ass with an epi-pen."

"At least you two can work together on your powers! That is cool. I don't use mine a lot since they tend to be scary and parents wouldn't want their tween daughters buying music from a monster. It's a total PR nightmare waiting to happen."

Nightingale has posed:
     "Maybe, but that PR nightmare has also saved our skins a few times, so don't go knocking it, Andrea." Shannon's striding into the rec room with a tray bearing a couple pots full of coffee, and some cups for those who might be there to partake. She's in a long white t-shirt with Tweety Bird dressed as a hippie and giving the 'peace' sign, long light blue jeans, and her old white sneakers. Most of her hair is left loose, except for one lock which has been dyed glacier blue, and braided, with three little silver beads on the end. She's somehow balancing the tray while managing to keep a hold of a 5' yew wood staff as she walks. Needless to say, the tray is deposited on the pool table, post-haste.

Hindsight has posed:
    Nathaniel snap points at Gwendolyn and gives her a rueful smile. See, she gets it. Andrea makes a good point, though, so he rolls his eyes, relenting, "Okay, fair. The writers will just have to work in other surprises," He really doesn't consider himself a hero, his mutation not lending itself towards any defensive or offensive capabilities, but the comic book talk is fun.

    He sighs, "I, unfortunately, don't have that limitation," Hence the protection. "I don't use mine, ever." He looks at the bringer of coffee and offers a small wave. "Hi." He's new. Obviously.

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
Gwendolyn settles back down on the couch once her sweater is back on and covering her wings. She pulls her bowl of knitting back into her lap and soon, the soothing click of needles intertwined with the conversation in a very ASMR type situation starts to happen. "If it's something you're wanting to work on, there are teachers here that can help. We've got one guy who can't turn off his invisibility that they're working on, for instance. And if they can't help you control it, they've got ways to help you cope. Like these." She taps her goggles with one knitting needle, waving to Shannon as she makes an appearance. "Shannon, come meet the new guy. His name is Nathaniel and he knows comic books!"

Rage has posed:
"So, what Shannon is polietly saying, Nathaniel, is that because of my popularity and the fact I'm a mutant celebrity, I have been the target of terrorist attacks and I've had to defend myself in the most horrifying ways possible that I would never wish upon anyone's soul." Andrea says as she folds one leg over the other. "And I would trade it in a heartbeat for something else, like flying, or breathing underwater, or I dunno, glowing in the dark when I fart." Sliding her phone into her hands, she taps along the glass with her thumbs. "But like anything else in life, I make the most of it and I do my best to keep myself and my friends safe. Benefit of my powers is that when shit goes down, you can stand behind me as I turn bad guys into sloppy joes."

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
"Glowy Farts." Gwendolyn giggles at the thought, her needles clicking merrily as she knits.

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon snickers at the thought, leaning against the pool table with her staff. "Well, it's no worse than Sam with his 'fire farts'. Never feed that man chili, he'll blow us all to kingdom come." She grins at Gwendolyn briefly, and just... bursts out giggling. "Oh gawd... glowy farts and fire ones? What's poor Nathaniel getting himself into here?"

Nathaniel gets a nod and a smile, and Shannon extends one large, snowy, feathered wing towards him by way of greeting. "Hi there! Nice to meet you! When did you get here?" She glosses over the talk of his powers for now, remembering all too well her own first day here, and how the same had been done for her.

Andrea, however, is not so favored. "Sometimes, defending yourself or others is pretty ugly. But in the end, you've got to ask yourself, 'If I don't do this, if I don't find a way to keep going, how many more will be hurt because of it?'. You make the sloppy joes, and I get to help patch you guys up."

Magik has posed:
Glowy farts - just the thing to enter on. Shannon's arrival eventually marks another slipping in. Easy to miss her except for the steady tramp of heavy boots fit for replacing tank treads in a dystopian future. Illyana goes out of her way to be heard, deliberate about bringing her feet down instead of roaming around on cats paws. Her backpack slung over her shoulder contains nothing too visibly damning. See, just another college student. High school student? Somewhere in between, maybe.

She beelines straight for the nearest source of caffeine. The inevitable course delivers her in front of it, where a steady stream of quick, sure gestures will procure a mug, a pot of steaming brew, and a final finished product... Even if the room doesn't supply it. The scent of vile caffeinated bliss soon floats through the air. A look over her shoulder for the eloquent, Slavic-inflected, "Hi," counts as highwater conversation here. Blonde and undoubtedly Russian-slanted, she even dares to lift that mug. Steam rises from the surface. "More if you want it."

Nathaniel is undoubtedly scrutinized longer than the others, brilliant glacial blue eyes taking his measure much too long to be polite. Or accidental.

Hindsight has posed:
    The look Andrea gets is remorseful, if not a bit awkward. What does one say to that? "I think I'd trade you. I mean, it depends on the specifics. Can you only go 'Big Bad Wolf' during a full moon, or," he jokes, teasing lightly.

    "Just yesterday," Nathaniel says, to the winged girl. "Hm. Shannon. I think Samuel mentioned you. Said something about how suspicious you are," He grins, eyes narrowing in an "I'm watching you" look. "It's good, so far. In accordance with the new silver-age rules, mandated by Dragonfly, you must tell us your powerset. Not the weakness, though." Nathaniel sends Andrea a mock scolding look.

    Feeling the silent weight of Illyana's gaze, Nathaniel brings his hands under his thighs and shifts in his seat. "Hi," Yeah, he's not going to try and get the Russian sorceress to reveal her powers or even introduce herself.

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
Shannon's coffee does get Gwen's attention briefly, but it's the slavic blonde's dramatic entrance and her magically produced coffee with the consistency of paint remover that actually gets her knitting needles to slow. A bit. "If you could somehow produce a Cafe Cubano in a little cup, I would be in your debt for at least an hour and a half." She says to Illyanna before sighing and flopping back on the couch, looking up at the ceiling. She's a new kid, too. Not as new as Nathaniel, but certainly the second most recent arrival here.

"Now now, no being miserable about your powers. We all have our advantages and disadvantages, and I'm sure a lot of us would enjoy being able to go around without goggles." She taps hers. "Or gloves." A look to Nathaniel. "Or not having to worry about going past a disk golf place and wanting to chase the frisbees." A playful glance goes to Andrea at that. "We're what we are and if that's good enough for Xavier's, it's good enough for me."

Pixie has posed:
Megan Gwynn yawns and stretches as she makes her way to the rec room between classes for a much-needed break. She's playing with a new squishy glowy fidget toy that she bought from a cheap dollar store in Mutant Town, and humming aloud to herself as she enters, although her thoughts seem elsewhere as she peers into the distance. Today her wings are an odd array of purple and grey glitter, fluttering slowly behind her as she looks for a place to sit and chill for a bit.

Wait, did someone say coffee? Her nose twitches, moving towards the coffee pot. "Ooooooh, any coffee left for meee?" she chirps. Yes, Pixie always needs caffiene.

Haunt has posed:
Large social situations are trouble for Brad in general, and he gets relegated to the side. Some of it is self-inflicted: staying quiet at first. The other half being that he's entirely invisible, so he goes very, very well under radar. Even those with advanced senses are likely to not notice him, as there are other smells and sounds to take in and pay attention to. And there's others coming in and out, muddying it even more.

Brad's accidental stealth, then, continues, as he did enter the rec room, but stays silent at first: for himself, it is getting a chance to determine who is present, for his own far more limited senses.

Nightingale has posed:
     Shannon raises her eyebrows and laughs, crossing her arms briefly as she leans on the pool table--which seems to have become a regular table for the moment, bearing the tray of coffeepots and cups, plus cream and sugar for those who choose to mix it in with their elixir of life. "That's going to be impossible to do, because in revealing my powers, I have to let you know of the weakness to keep myself alive. Flight is an obvious one, with the wings. But there's also my healing touch." She glances down at her hands, curling and uncurling her fingers briefly. "When I touch someone, I can absorb wounds and illnesses they've sustained. They become my own. I heal relatively quickly, though, so it's not so bad most times. However..." Her voice becomes a little bit somber here. "If... /if/ I ever have to heal you, please do /not/ pull away from me, because if you do, it could severely injure, or if not tended to quickly, possibly kill me. Pulling away is more dangerous than the healing itself, most times."

     Megan gets a smile and a grin, and she motions to the pool table behind her. "There's coffee there, and it seems like Illyana's got some, too. Take your pick, it's all good."

     If Brad were to extend his senses throughout the room, he might get a sense of someone somewhat familiar by the pool table, if the large, feathery wings are any indication. In all, there seem to be six others present besides himself, scattered at various points throughout the room.

Magik has posed:
"It could always be worse." Illyana's wisdom comes not from a fortune cookie or the death knell proclamation of a hermit on a mountaintop, but someone who would probably toss her pale hair off her shoulder if it weren't already pinned in place with a pair of viciously pointy hair sticks. She has the pot to deal with, and mingling different sources of coffee for an ideal outcome is not beyond her. After the first sip. Or the sixth. It's really quite a piping fresh cup that requires even her to avoid burning her lips. But satisfying, the first crack in her composure driven by the heady smell of the beverage clutched in her hands. In that oversized sweater, the Russian is hardly terrifying. "Always." Aristocratic nose back to the shelter of its ceramic shield. A deeper breath gives sustenance of another kind. Dare it be said she might even relax a notch? Take what you can get.

Gwendolyn's request might be too much a challenge to avoid. "How much sugar?" Her eyes narrow a fraction and she makes no efforts to approach any closer. Back there with her stolen coffeemaker -- borrowed, plus Shannon's addition -- she is poised to be the Queen of a Caffeine Limbo. "Here," she nods at a white mug. Suspiciously not from the kitchens at that. "There's... four cups." Coffee matters don't totally distract her, her eyes narrowed and considering. Hard to say all of where she focuses; it's everywhere, vigilant. Or paranoid.

"Illyana," she says offhanded, tipping her head a fraction down. No hiding behind her hair either. "I'm the proof it can always be worse."

Hindsight has posed:
    The white-haired teenager is seated, and a kinetic sense likely doesn't reveal much about the boy himself. "I will keep that in mind, and also try not to get hurt," He shrugs, and doesn't reach out for coffee from Shannon's tray or otherwise.

    "Nathaniel," He offers to Illyana and Megan once the former's gaze shifts away from him specifically to everywhere else. "Lots of wings here," he notes, with a brief smile.

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
"It's basically sweetened espresso. Take a couple of teaspoons of espresso, add like a teaspoon of sugar, whip into a froth, then pour more espresso over the top." Gwendolyn starts putting away her knitting in a bag. "You need just a little thimbleful to get you through the morning, unless you need more caffine to get you going." There are a lot of people gathering and it's kind of making her a little uncomfortable. Megan Gwynn gets a wave - she's seen the winged pixie before. "Can I get mine to go?" Gwendolyn calls out to Illyanna, looking at everyone with a smile. "I'm going to hit the kitchen to make some lunch."

Haunt has posed:
Nathaniel's remark about the wings brings on a spur of the moment little prank from Brad. Minor, really, but who can resist just a LITTLE bit of fun?

In this particular case, it is the very apparent movement of Andrea: who suddenly floats up towards the ceiling, almost exorcism-style.

"/Wings/?! WE ALL FLOAT DOWN HERE," Brad's voice comes, disembodied and deliberately creepy, from roughly near the ceiling adjacent to Andrea. It's kind of over the pool table. Brad doesn't have an extremely deep voice by any means, but disembodied vocals of many types are often eerie. Even if they're teen boys'.

Rage has posed:
As she plays with the phone, Andrea launches her camera app to check some of her hair as the other's talk around her. She is off in her own little world the moment she stares at herself, her body growing a bit slack. As her head tilts to one side, a smile slowly tugs along her lips, baring the briefest of teeth. Even as she is lifted up into the air, it doesn't seem that she is quite registering the moment as she gazes at herself in the camera. That is, until her legs fall beneath her and she is jostled back to attention.

"Whu--huh? Brad!" Her legs give a bit of a pinwheel below, gauging if she was to fall, where would she land.

Nightingale has posed:
     Shannon's eyes cross a little bit when she sees Andrea heading towards the ceiling, supposedly of her own accord. And... it's very, very near to where she's at by the pool table! Craning her neck to look upwards, she whistles the classic 'Twilight Zone' theme tune, and bursts out laughing. "Brad, you goof!"

     Gwendolyn's description of the coffee creation has her dabbing at the corners of her mouth, and she grins over at her Christmastime partner in crime. "Whatever that is, sounds divine! Shoot, set me up with an IV drip of the stuff, stat! And if lunch involves po'boys or something else equally delectable... though I'll insist on helping with dinner in return!"

     Illyana gets a mildly amused little smile, the winged teen's eyebrows lofting. "Things can always be worse... but I'm glad you're not." For now. Only for now.

Magik has posed:
Andrea starting to float is just enough to bring Illyana off the wall. The dull stirrings around her might not be detectable to most, but the shadows deepen by fractions. The pool at her feet scratches out a few shades deeper than that. Her frosty eyes observe the ascent, Andrea hoisted up the more. One arm crosses her chest, hand clamped around her forearm. The sipping of coffee comes before plowing into a disaster. A good thing, too, since she swivels slightly in Brad's direction. "Do we?" Two words with precise, flat inflection clang into the silence, though they aren't particularly loud.

Better for everyone to distract with different orders. Shannon's amusement and the lack of fear in Andrea are enough to root her in place. Nathaniel still earns a second glance, but she steps away from her purloined percolator and a hole opens up. One not big enough to shove a tablet through, but the pulsating basso beat and streaming sunlight don't belong to the moment. Neither does a mixed scent of petrol and eye-watering coffee freshness. She feels about for a moment or two, then bends to peek through where her arm has suddenly exited reality. Sort of. It's just on the other side. "Your debt I accept." This to Gwendolyn as she waits for some distracted barista taking orders in relaxed Spanish to turn around. Tuuuurn around. Any moment now, the tacita will be ready for her and she can snatch it through.

Hindsight has posed:
    Nathanial looks up, following Andrea with wary eyes. The disembodied teenage voice might have startled him, had it not been identified immediately. "Oh, boy. That the invisible kid you mentioned?" He has shifty eyes for a moment, as he tries to discern where the voice came from.

    He stands then, glancing to Gwendolyn. "Coffee is okay, but not a worthy substitute for tea," A dangerous thing to utter in a room full of caffeine addicts. "If you can show me the kitchen, I'll make myself some." The hole in reality is unusual enough that it gets a curious look, and, from a suitable distance, of course, he just slightly peers over Illyana's shoulder. Is that Cuba?

Magik has posed:
It's absolutely Cuba. Probably not the dingiest shop in a town in the Sierra Madres; Old Havana, in this case, is rather distinctive. It's just visible through the cloudy windows. The perspective is roughly at counter level, a little higher.

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
Flying Andrea gets a smirk and a wave towards a particular portion of the ceiling. Were she in her room, she'd be able to pinpoint Brad by his heartbeat and breathing, but with all the people here and all the goings on, it's hard to pick out one particular thing while wearing earplugs. "Don't drop her, Brad. She's got a concert to put on, you know.

Gwendolyn, her bag of knitting safely tucked away, bends down and peers through the hole in the world that Illyana just created, wrinkling her nose at the sights sounds and, yes, the smells of the edges of the portal that lead to limbo, the coffee shop clear on the beach. "Holy crap, I think it is." She grins to Illyana. "I may have to keep you on retainer." An hour and a half of my time for authentic stuff, fresh from Cuba. Worth it." She squeals happily as a cup is placed down on the counter, just inside the hole and, with a look to Illyana, she reaches in, takes the cup and saucer, and straightens with a grin. "Thank you."

Looking over to Nathaniel at his question, Gwendolyn nods. "That's Brad being brad." She waves to his spot of ceiling. "I think you'd like him. He's a really nice guy."

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
"C'mon." Gwendolyn says to Nathaniel, taking a sip of her coffee. "I'll show you where the kitchen is."

Haunt has posed:
"Sure," Brad's voice answers Illyana, though the 'evil tone' has entirely dropped out for Brad's more natural state of vocal. He's over the pool table: probably. Invisible, after all.

"Invisible yeah, by day known as 'really nice guy Brad'," Brad introduces himself using Gwen's terms in a leisurely way to Nathaniel. He doesn't make a big fuss at all: instead, the focus is more on the prank.

"Don't use your feet to steer; remember your training, Padawan," Brad encourages Andrea. Yes, he puts her down. A smirk remains in his voice: he thinks the whole procedure was pretty fun, but he does follow after Gwendolyn. "Sandwich?" questions the invisible teenager from Gwendolyn's left. "For my next feat, I will make a sandwich disappear."

With that, Brad veers out of the rec room; he may win the race to the kitchen, a bit of breeze flowing in his wake to show his passage.

Nightingale has posed:
     Shannon smiles over at Nathaniel. "Nothing wrong with coffee or tea. I drink both. Keep an assorted box my mom sent me with her last care package from home." So perhaps there was a chink in the armor of the koffee klatch. Sacrilege!

     She, too, takes a peek over Illyana's shoulder, eyes crossing as she tries to figure out just where the Queen of Limbo's hand was. "Okay. Now /that/ is pretty neat. How do you do that?" A smile spreads slowly across her face in an expression of almost child-like delight at the display. "It never ceases to amaze me just how diverse everyone is here. So many different places, so many different backgrounds, more different types of gifts than you can shake a stick at."

     Gwendolyn gets an impish little grin and she chuckles. "Better warn Nathaniel of the rich goodies that come out of that kitchen. Such as your po'boys and my mac 'n cheese. Or lasagna. Haven't made that in a while, maybe I should. We ought to get all us girls together and have an Italian night!"

     Ah yes. The call of the wild. Also known as FOOD. So far it's successfully made three disappear, much to the amusement of the mansion's resident winged healer. "See you guys soon!"

Rage has posed:
Once she lands back upon her feet, Andrea gives a few wobbly steps, then tucks her phone back into her pocket. As it appears the trio is peeling out of the room to the kitchen, she tracks them with her eyes for a moment before she tugs the sweater she's wearing tighter about her body. She lifts her hand to wave at them, then heads out of the room herself so that she can return to her room. The ringtone in her pocket may have something to do with it.

Magik has posed:
The noise tumbling gthrough Illyana's open portal hints at a lively cafe. Lively by Cuban standards means conversation, the slash of spoons and cups. Music hums away in the background from a radio, popping and crackling. The barista doesn't seem to notice the gap there unless someone shouts through it. One last glimpse is visible before she snaps the portal shut. Color bleeds away and the remnants of sound fade, but not before the golden ring has a dull, deadly gray glow to its winking core. Rather like a meniscus or the secondary eyelid of certain lizards. Don't look too deep.

Satisfied, the blonde looks at Gwendolyn's knitting then up to her. "Don't rush that." She might be commanding, she might be terrorizing. Right now, it's probably awareness the cup of espresso is piping hot by most standards. The thanks is met with one of those cursory nods that might lead to running into Shannon if she were not given to holding totally still. "Food and blood make us all the same."