3803/Halloween Cookies

Halloween Cookies
Date of Scene:	14 October 2020
Location:	Main Kitchen
Synopsis:	Halloween cookies are baked and Chinese delivery is ordered. Hambone wisely did not take up Illyana's offer to join in her ritual sacrifice.
Cast of Characters:	Kitty Pryde, Kurt Wagner, Henry McCoy, Illyana Rasputina, Ororo Munroe

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Kitty Pryde has posed:
The kitchen is filled with the delicious smells of baked goods. Kitty Pryde is in the room, though anyone who knows her particularly well can probably guess that someone else must be doing the cooking then.

And indeed, Thomas and Hambone are hard at work mixing more cookie dough and setting them out on another sheet. Kitty is looking at Hambone, a younger student whose powers include regulating his body temperature, and talking to small mammals, and asking, "James, where did you learn to cook?"

The student, well known for his video gaming, and getting into trouble by doing things like running cockroach races says, "Oh my mom. She's the best at this stuff." Kitty comes over to take a look. Thomas, who has green skin with a vaguely froglike look, though otherwise human, says, "Miss Pryde, we agreed you wouldn't contribute to the dough, just help decorate. Because... ah, we've had your cooking before," he says. But blushing a bit as he says that to her.

Kitty doesn't seem to take it poorly though, laughing. "I admit I'm a Calamity Jane of the kitchen. Ok, where's the frosting and sprinkles?" she asks, getting directed to orange, black, and other appropriate colored frosting and toppings, as the first batch of cookies comes out of the oven.

Kurt Wagner has posed:
Given just how large the school actually is it is impressive just how pervasive the scent of baking can truly be. And just how often that it might attract someone who is not otherwise not a particularly valued contributor in a kitchen setting. Or maybe that isn't a surprise at all. Afterall, the yin and yang of the universe demands that not only do people make the treats, but that someone also consumes said treats.

From that particular perspective one could say that Kurt is really just doing his cosmic duty but making his way to the kitchen to see exactly what someone has going on in that over today. And more importantly, are they willing to share. Certainly it smells like it is worth angling for a cut of the action. Cookiees, unless his nose badly betrays him. And when it comes to food it rarely does.

Logan might be able to follow a trail for hundreds of miles. But Kurt knows his baked goods.

Henry McCoy has posed:
It's not too hard for the Beast to scent the cookies. Heightened senses, after all! Having spent a good portion of the day listening to Brahms too soothe himself, it was time to brave the world at large. Or in this case, the manor and other people.

Dressed comfortably in cargo shorts and a t-shirt, Henry makes his way towards the kitchen in search of possibly obtaining some of the treats. He pauses upon spotting Kitty there first, looking puzzled. Then Hambone and Thomas are spotted at the helm of the SS Cookie ship. A wry grin.

"I thought something smelled delicious." He offers over to those present, nodding to Kurt as well

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
A sight less seen what with the advent of autumn, Illyana hasn't been exactly the most visible of residents around Westchester's favourite school. She formally hasn't claimed a room in at least two years, for all her mail technically might show up here. Piotr remains in residence, though, so perhaps this explains the presence of the Russian sorceress dipping into the kitchen that could feed close to 2,000 people in a pinch instead of a few starving students after casual dinner time. The addition of a black sweater sloped off her bare, pale shoulder is the remote concession of someone who probably thinks the cooling evening temperatures still count as summery, or at the very least balmy. Stalking in through a door that probably stays propped open much of the day and evening, she hardly announces herself with too loud a presence. She just happens to carry a bowl that's probably closer in size to a soup tureen, something to be restored back into one of the industrial washers.

Putting that in the sink would -be- the sink, anyway. She carries it on her hip, arm partly wrapped around the metallic belly. Any sort of smell of baked cookies registers somewhat; on the other hand, she isn't bouncing up and down like the waif who would have four or five years ago, shyly peering around Piotr's leg. The idea of shyly peering around anyone's leg is long, long gone.

Kitty Pryde has posed:
Kitty Pryde seems to catch Beast's meaning and that puzzled first look. She puts her hands on her hips and says, "Henry McCoy! I'll have you know that I make a great... ah... I'm a wonder at..." she says, trailing off in thought. "I order pizza and Chinese with the best of them," she finishes with a scolding expression and a waggle of her finger.

Kitty takes the first batch of still warm cookies over to the table to decorate them. "These are ready but you have to wait a few more seconds if you want frosting on them," she says. She begins applying orange to the top of a pumpkin-shaped cookie, and then little dashes of dark frosting for eyes and a mouth. The first one is soon done and ready for whoever wishes to fight over it. Though the second will be arriving and ready for consumption soon after that.

Kitty waves a greeting to Kurt and Illyana as they arrive. "Hey guys, help yourself," she says. She eyes the immense bowl that Illyana is carrying. "If you ate all of that yourself..." she teases, eyes twinkling at her longtime friend without finishing the sentence.

Kurt Wagner has posed:
Hey, he could pretend otherwise certainly, but the simple truth of the matter is that Kurt is here for one reason and one reason only -- to score some cookies. And who could blame him? They smell amazing. "If it is a matter of waiting a few extra seconds for that extra sugar rush, I think I can somehow find the strength to manage that," the fuzzy blue elf agrees, yellow eyes dancing merrily as he looks over the array of the as of yet undecorated cookies. Mmmmmmm.

"Ahhh Kitty, you need not worry. The ordering of food is definitely an essential life skill. And so long as you live here I do not think you need worry overmuch about learning the finer points of baking. Not when there are others who are happy to do so for you," he points out beatifically. It might not be any sort of profound philosophical insight. But it does get one cookies without the hassle of making them, so it has that going for it.

Henry McCoy has posed:
There's another grin from Hank, his hands held up in supplication. "I hadn't issued a word, Kitty. Nary a syllable!" The man offers over to the finger-waggle. "I would never besmirch anyone's attempts at kitchen science." A sage nod, the man grinning and moving to the fridge. He retrieves the jug of milk, fetching glasses next.

"Getting into the Autumnal spirit? Or is the Samhain spirit?" He teases. "Spooky skeletons and what not.

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
"An important skill, when two restaurants deliver. Is it the spicy place or the glazed orange place?" Westchester County ain't a hotbed of choice at the best of times, especially when Yonkers of all places looks like the height of cuisine before reaching New York city limits. Not knocking the balance, but she knows the truth of the matter. "Any firecracker shrimp?" The nascent possibilities formulate a dinner order if no one thinks the better, though she looks to Kurt directly ahead of her and then the other blue devil with a doctorate. "Or is it too late?" Russian heritage bolsters her from immediately teleporting a sheet of cookies away. That and it probably would end with Kitty frowning, and no one really wants that travesty of fate to pass.

Mmmhmm. Cookie-thieves are not welcome. "I hear they deliver food into Salem sometimes. A taco order ended badly for all." The Demon Queen's icy-pale eyes narrow in speculation, the damage done to that poor GrubHub or LexEat driver best not contemplated. "They will be popular with the students. We should bar the doors." All the cookies are THEIRS.

Kitty Pryde has posed:
Kitty Pryde flashes a grin over to Kurt. "Right? People should really appreciate good ordering skills. Always remembering the extra sauce, or who likes their dish a little extra spicy?" she asks. She's topping the cookies, this time switching to the chocolate frosting with bits of orange for eyes and mouth. After that there are other spooky Halloween shapes to work on. The skeletons kind of came out as a vaguely human-like blob so will need the vanilla frosting to add the appearance of bones. "We can put an order in if you're hungry," Kitty tells Illyana at the mention of her favorites.

Hambone looks up and over to Henry McCoy. "No sir, not, either of those. They are for Halloween," he says. Thomas standing behind Hambone just covers his face with his hand and shakes his head for a moment, prompting Hambone to ask, "What?"

Hambone notices Illyana come in. He wipes his hands off on the apron he's put on for the making of the cookies, and walks over to her. "Um, Miss Rasputin? No, wait, Rasputina? Um, I was wondering, there's a Halloween dance coming up at the end of the month," the brave teen says. "And, you know, I was wondering, if you might like to go to it with me." Thomas goes from facepalming, to staring. Hambone says, "You already have a great Halloween look and... ah, would you?"

This may go down as the day Hambone pulled off a stunning move. Or the day he died. But either way it would enter Xavier's School lore.

Kurt Wagner has posed:
"Exactly!" the fuzzy blue elf enthuses, showing at least a little restraint in not going for the first cookiees to receive their chocolate coating. He has some sense of fair play afterall. Hambone and Thomas and Kitty have baked and decorated the cookiees. They deserve first crack. Then he will mooch! "Especially when we put in as many big orders as we do here. Think of all the hungry teenagers who would moan and groan if you forgot something key like the extra sauce. I salute you," he says, the solemness of his tone given lie by those glinting yellow eyes.

It is also apparently enough standing on ceremony to merit claiming a cookiee too, so bonus.

Flashing a grin towards Illyana and Henry, Kurt glances back towards the main entrance. "Mmmmm, I am always up for valiantly holding a door against overwhelming numbers. But I will demand suitable recompense in baked goods," he says slyly. "Or firecracker shrimp. I missed dinner grading papers," he conceeds, making a face. Adulting is not always anyone's favorite thing.

When Hambone makes his play, Kurt grings, making a show of clapping. Afterall, no one can say yes unless you ask first. Somethings are worth staring death in the face, right?

Henry McCoy has posed:
Hank's pause at Hambone's question is pregnant indeed. A slight smile. "Indeed, for Halloween." He agrees with the boy after a few moments. A smile to Thomas in understanding. As the others discuss a food order, Henry's stomach growls audibly to all. A slight footscuff from the Beast, a bit embarassed.

"I must have missed a meal or two - I am certainly up to help with any food orders. I'd love a hearty dinner, to go with the cookies." Especially the chocolate frosted ones!

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
The tureen ends up plopped in the dishwasher while Illyana finishes that chore, lest anyone question a witch carrying her own personal cauldron. The door opened and a bottom rack pulled out, she puts the soup pot facedown. The next nudge probably encourages the door to hinge shut a bit more forcibly than necessary, but it's not quite enough to startle her. "No need. Something probably in the fridge." Scavenging a look in that appliance follows next, the blonde's pale gold hair swept around her shoulders in a blunt curtain as she eases by. Kitty's artistic creations get admired after she surveys whether or not anything is edible in a reasonably short period of time. Possibly the options are ransacked already.

Miss Rasputin, though, that gets a look from behind a brushed steel door about ten degrees warmer than her default setting. Eyes narrowing as she stops thinking about sandwiches and intercepts Hambone asking her a question might be perceived as a predator noting dinner could be right there. Is being under the tiger's burning-bright gaze wise? "I am performing sacrificial rites in the last days of the year," she says, like someone goes about talking about, say, studying for a test. Somewhere, St. Yeet's radar is going up. Her blackened lips make a neat line.

"I doubt you want to be my partner for that." Or /does/ he? Choose Your Own Horror Adventure?

Kitty Pryde has posed:
Kitty gets herself one of the cookies, setting it aside to munch on while making a motion to the rest of them. "Let me just get this skeleton... done..." she murmurs. "It's not quite up to Piotr-level," she says of the art teacher, "But... that should at least be recognizable as a skeleton."

Kitty pulls out her phone and looks over her friends. "So, Illyana's a #4. Spicy place. Or you're going to get something from the fridge? Hank you're a pair of #11's right?" she asks. Kitty looks to Kurt. "You want the #5 or are the cookies enough to sate you tonight?" she asks. She looks to both boys but they ate earlier. Plus planned on having a lot of the cookies themselves, no doubt.

Hambone looks like he's giving the matter some thought. "I don't think so, I mean, what exactly would we be-" He's interrupted by Thomas whispering in Hambone's ear. Whatever was said gets a wide-eyed reaction from Hambone, who stares at Illyana. "Oh. No. I would not. Thank you, Miss Rasputin," he tells her, backing away slowly.

Kitty tries her best to hide her smile, but it's there as she peeks up and over at her friend.

Kurt Wagner has posed:
Look, agreeing to participate in a ritual sacrifice is probably not the dumbest thing a teenaged boy has ever done to try and get the girl. But clearly Thomas understands the implication well enough to explain it to his suddenly reluctant friend. Come to think of it, that flaw probably isn't exclusive to teenaged males. "It was a valiant effort, but it is always a good thing to know when to beat a tactical retreat," he says with a grace nod for Hambone, managing to keep from smiling even if those brilliant yellow eyes are dancing merrily.

"I mean, I won't say no to a #5 if others are ordering. Otherwise I am certain I can find something in the fridge to warm up," Kurt says with a smile. It's a safe bet. Leftovers are rarely in short supply afterall and so long as Kurt doesn't have to start the whole cooking process from scratch this evening he's good. "I suppose it all comes down to just how hungry Henry is," he says, shooting Beast a quick grin as that growling tummy makes it pretty clear that the answer is 'very'.

Henry McCoy has posed:
The Beast nods to Kitty. "Yes please. Extra sauce." He asks, moving over to nick one of the chocolate frosted cookies. His eyes go to Illyana and her would-be-suitor. A wry grin and a nod as his decision is made. "The wisdom of listening to your friends, is breath-taking to witness." Henry muses, pouring out glasses of milk for all. Milk goes with cookies, after all.

"Plans for Halloween, all? Party? Dance?" He wonders.

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
Cookies just about consider getting up and walking. There must be a spell for that. There could be someone thinking really, really hard about the legion of skeletons doing a song and dance, to please end the agony of being caught between a fridge and a delicious place. Is it Illyana? Probably not, for that unblinking, wide blue stare holds all the warmth and welcome of Lake Baikal in a snowstorm. "Yes, please," she says with proper manners about the best combo this side of the river. Mollifying her with Chinese-American sauces spiked to burn one's tongue off is a smart move. Not totally disarming.

There is no real smile to her lips. "Happy Hallowe'en," sounds very strange with her native Russian accent. At least she has not suggested picking her teeth with their bones or other terrible things. She waits until Hambone and Thomas call Broken Arrow and flee, nodding slowly to Kurt. "Your strategy is sound. I will bring you back a torte." Death by German baked goods. It could be worse.

"I do not know their plans. Mine are so declared." Right. Sacrificial rites.

Kitty Pryde has posed:
Kitty Pryde grins over to Kurt as the two boys decide perhaps it would be best to beat a retreat from the kitchen. "The last batch is in the oven Miss Pryde. The timer will go off," one tells her. Kitty waves them off and nods. She can handle a timer. It's the baking part that she fails at so badly.

She gets on her phone. "Yes, a #4 extra spicy. And a #5. And two #11's. And let me have a... oh, I'll take the 8. With extra broccoli, yes. Yep, it's Kitty. Sure, we'll have someone down at the gate when you get here," she says, before hanging up. They have her card on file, and Kitty's phone chimes a second later with the purchase.

She looks back to Hank then. "Well, the kids have a dance and I think maybe are making a haunted house. I'd like to do something a bit more adult for it, but not sure what yet." She looks to Illyana and Kurt, asking, "Anyone have ideas? Of the... not magic variety"

Kurt Wagner has posed:
Mmmmmmm, food. More importantly food that he does not have to make for himself. The very best sort of food.

It's not that Kurt doesn't know how to cook -- he didn't exactly grow up in a typical home afterall and everyone was expected to carry their weight. Including taking turns helping to get the meals ready. But food that someone else has made always tastes soooooo much better. Besides, Kurt might be just a little too... improvisational to make an outstanding chef. Somethings are just never going to be a good combination. You don't really need to test them out. At least you don't unless you happen to be a fuzzy blue elf. Then it is entirely possible that there is, in fact, a biological need to run out and do just that.

"What, ritual sacrifices are not adult enough for you?" he asks Kitty slyly, sneaking a glance towards the other two, the corners of his mouth threatening to twitch upwards even as he gives a shake of his head in feigned-sadness. "They grow-up so fast."

Henry McCoy has posed:
Hank relaxes, hopping up on a stool and perching. "Barring the need to chaperone the dance, I am wondering what Carrie is up to that evening." He says, before munching on his cookie. A grin over to the comment from Kurt. "Perhaps too adult?" He suggests. "Unless it's a haunted house affair, though I doubt Illyana is suggesting such." A glance over to the Russian.

"Things do change, however. She could be pulling our proverbial legs?"

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
All hail the conquering deliveryman. Yes. Dinner from a carryout cardboard box may be the stuff of miracles. Illyana pulls out orange juice and carries that over to a counter, looking back. "A glass for anyone?" Her own choice for a glass is probably stolen from a seven-year-old, the smallest in the cupboard, but that hardly establishes a stingy hand for everyone. "Haunted houses are wasted on me, Doctor McCoy. I would only disappoint." Jumpscares don't get very far with someone expecting terrible things, right? Or maybe the answer of 'I stab it' is inappropriate against innocent people.

"I will leave the lesser rites to bakers and cornstarch fears to those who need reminded why the dark is no friend." Her toothy smirk is all it needs to be.

Kitty Pryde has posed:
The side of Kitty Pryde that is her sense of humor would want to make a comment about /her/ growing up fast? Illyana used to be years younger and now is a year older. But her sense of guilt at having lost her grip on Piotr's younger sister in that tug of war across the portal to Limbo, while mollified some by the years still is enough it's a joke she just can't make.

"I was thinking more, adult beverages and clothes that you'd never wear in the light of day but it's ok to do it on Halloween," she says. "Hey, I'm finally old enough to wear that stuff without Hank and Logan looking at me with those looks of disappointment," she tells Kurt. "And you," she adds, reaching over to give her friend a teasing poke in the ribs.

Kitty gets the last batch of cookies out, but pauses to eat one of the frosted ones while it's still warm. "Ok, they did a good job with them," she says with a happy sigh. She waves off the offer of orange juice. "Think I need milk for this," she says. She checks her phone to see if it's time to go get the food yet. Not quite, but soon.

Kurt Wagner has posed:
Growing up too fast. In just about any other household that might be a rather rhetorical statement. Not so much in theirs. They have a living, breathing example of that. Of course the alternative could have been even worse. Still, it is understandable that not everyone would consider it something to jest about.

"I do not judge," Kurt protests. Which is mostly true. He's pretty good at avoiding that sort of thing wherever possible. HIs beliefs are his, and no one else is obligated to share them. Also, he's the cool teacher. He has a reputation to uphold. "They did not get the benefit of spending the last couple of years with you. They missed some fairly significant growing up on your part," he points out wryly. A lot can happen to anyone in a couple of years. Given the lives they lead? It can be the equivilent of a few decades for anyone else.

"I will suggest however that if you want to dress up in something you would not have been caught dead in a couple of years ago that you do so beyond the prying eyes of the students. Unless you wish to have Hambone ask you to the next dance," he points out, that impish grin threatening to reemerge. It's probably a fair point. Though it might not even take that much for a few of the students to develop crushes on her. "I am just glad that I am not the guidance counselor," he murmurs. Again his gaze flits to both Hank and Illyana. Yeah. The right person probably got that job.

Henry McCoy has posed:
Guidance counselor? Hank? Might be a bad idea right now - not with his recent mindset. He remains perched on the stool, munching on a cookie with his glass of milk. The simple things on an autumn evening. That, and friends. "I cannot promise there won't be looks of disappointment, Kitty." He teases the younger woman.

A grin to Illyana. "Truly, I think most of us might be ill-suited for haunted houses. Our previous experiences, along with natural responses to fight or flight, would prove disasterous for those who were simply trying to earn a living by spooking people."

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
Yup, anyone running around the Mansion a couple of years ago would have been confronted by a long-legged, gap-toothed Russian sprite chasing after her great big brother's shadow. Instead, the matroshka nesting dolls opened and this horror fell out. One who would take orange juice over freshly baked cookies.

"You mean jorts. And waders." The command of English burnished heavily by her far eastern Russian dialect doesn't quite match up, but thanks to the Professor for giving her his mental dictionary, she can aptly describe the horrific state of affairs that are knee-length jean short-cutoff things. Or fashion defined by huge comedy fruit prints on a collared shirt the likes of which a British comedian hosting a baking show likes to wear. Her serious expression indicts those choices. "With vodka, this could be a dangerous night. The innocence of youth beset before the modest demons of our own making?" A widening smirk invites Kurt's commentary even as she waves a circle of her hand. "The way you think, we should all come in Victorian nightgowns."

Ororo Munroe has posed:
A sound from the hallway suggests that there might be others about, though the voices are less happy. A young student, their sniffles audible. And the sound of a teacher walking the child closer, speaking in gentle tones. "I'm sorry darling, but world war two was a thing. We can work on the emotions that it brought out in you after cookies. That sounds like a good thing just now."

Ororo Munroe's voice, followed shortly by Ororo Munroe's body, she steps into the doorway with a youth in hand. A female, who happens to be smoldering slightly as she sniffles, and Ororo's face is an apology as she brings the child in. "Forgive me, I believe we are in need of a cookie. Is there one to share? Vladia is distraught." She must have smelled them down the hall. History lessons can be rough.

Kitty Pryde has posed:
Kitty Pryde flashes a grin over to Kurt. "Oh definitely," she says to him of not wearing any particularly adult Halloween costume around the school. "Would go and change in the city somewhere before ending up... well, wherever," she says. "And, yeah, it would be bad for the guidance counselor to have to get sent to the guidance counselor," she says with a soft laugh.

Looking up, Kitty spots Ororo and the student arriving. "Just baked enough for an army. Courtesy of Hambone and Thomas. I only did the frosting," Kitty says, naming two of the students as the cooks.

She checks her phone and says, "Ah, the Chinese should be here." She rises and starts to head towards the exit when a student passing by says, "Chinese? At the gate? I'll get it."

There's a woosh of air, and then another one thirty seconds later, the student has the bags in hand. Speedster. Kitty takes them with a grateful smile. "Thank you. Want one of my fortune cookies?" she asks, digging in the bag and giving it to him. He takes it and grins then zooms off, suddenly not there.

Kitty starts getting out the food for everyone and distributing it.

Kurt Wagner has posed:
"For the record, I think I could still get something out of a haunted house," kurt asserts, perhaps no real surprise. It is the sort of thing that would appeal to him. But then, as ironic as it might seem given how his life began, his trauma quotient is relatively low compared to most of his comrades. True, there is the little matter of being mystically taken over and turned into a lightning-hurling anthropomorphic lion. All things considered, he's coping with that pretty well. With luck there will be a reckoning with that before too long.

"And I must say that Halloween is an excellent time to be something else, someone else, even if just for a couple of hours. Costumes are still fun, even if no one is going to give us candy anymore at our age," he notes, seeming just a little indignant. He likes chocolate. And he looks very dashing in his preferred pirate costume.

"Ahhhh, the lovely Ororo and her young friend have come to join us. Come child, cookiees. They make everything better," he asserts very gravely, clearing space around the table where the sizable collection of sweets has been gathered. They still probably won't last the night.

Ororo Munroe has posed:
Hunching down slightly to give young Vladia her cookie, Ororo places a kiss upon her forehead. "Now, off to bed young lady. It is late and you have an outing tomorrow, the trek to see the farm, remember?" She's been scheduling those from time to time; the children seem to learn from them, things they'd not learn in a classroom.

Vladia, no longer smoking at her age, is amply distracted by baked sweets. At thirteen, little can stand up the the power of baked sugar. As it should be. She looks to Kurt, blushing slightly in her lightly tanned skin, then dashes to the door where her friends, hidden poorly, collect her and giggle off.

"Ah, I was that young once," she says. Then she turns to the group. "Thank you Mark!" she calls after the long-since-gone speedster, and then she settles a bit herself. "Kurt, darling please. A little young for you still." She is teasing. She is in a good mood. There must be no storm in the skies, for she is smiling.

Kitty Pryde has posed:
Kitty distributes the Chinese and then takes a seat at the table to open up her own. "Mmm. I don't know what battle that General Tso commanded in. But he makes a darn fine chicken," she comments with a grin.

She watches Ororo's handling of the younger student then smiles to her once the girl is gone. "You're so good at that," she says, motioning to the cookies. "I'll split my chicken with you if you want," she offers of the mildly spicy dish.

Kitty looks over to Kurt to nod agreement. "I still like haunted houses," she agrees. "Even if they are likely to make me phase if they actually surprise me," she tells them with a small grin. That was part of her training. Instinctively phasing when startled. A car backfire and she's a ghost.

Kurt Wagner has posed:
Watching the young teen run off, Kurt circles the table to claim a spot by the windows, the sun having long since set as the days get shorter and shorter, the encroaching darkness starting a little earlier each day. Not that it bothers him, his eyes sometimes flickering towards those dark windows, the grounds beyond no doubt still very much visible to him.

At Ororo's teasing he simply flashes that rakish grin that is every bit as much a part of him as that indigo fur or agile tail. "Ahhhh, this charm. I fear I cannot turn it off. It is a burden, a curse really, but what else can I do but endure," he says lightly, the corners of his mouth dancing once more as he scoops up those chopsticks with practiced ease. "I likewise do not mind sharing if you are hungry," he adds on a more serious note.

"Mmmm, yes. Training to the point where our reactions become instinctive does come with a few disadvantages," he allows with a quiet laugh. All things considered though, phasing at the first hint of trouble -- or *bamfing* away for that matter -- is probably never the worst idea.

Ororo Munroe has posed:
Ororo smiles. "Thank you Kitty," she says, though she does not reach to actually take any of the food. "Please, enjoy your meal. I've eaten." She sounds so much as if she's conferring a blessing at times. She seems to drift into her own world, and only the darker occurrences really bring her down. Or a student in need, crying.

"Perhaps I could do something with that charm," she muses, fingers tickling her own chin. "Bottle it perhaps. A tincture of Wagner, scented with violets." She pauses, then winks. "I am kidding. My sense of humour is often dry."

She looks about. "I interrupted something? A hallow's eve discussion? Or is this a wish to be frightened? I do knwo a ghost story or two." She does, and they may frighten. Because they are likely to be true.

Kitty Pryde has posed:
Kitty Pryde slowly makes her way through the spicy chicken dish. She adds some rice into it to soak up the sauce. "Mmmm. So good," she murmurs between bites. "No, it was... well, Thomas and Hambone baked the cookies. And then Hambone asked Illyana to go to the school Halloween dance with him. Because she already has the right look. And Illyana offered to let him particulate in her ritual sacrifices in exchange. Which, Thomas had to explain to Hambone what his role would be. And then that led to Halloween talk, and what the rest of us might like to do that night," she says.

Kitty casts an eye up towards Ororo. "I was saying I kind of want to wear an adult-style costume for a change." Ororo might have been one who had a hand in any previous attempts at such costumes being delayed for a few years. Though Kitty left for college when she was 16, so it would have been when she was younger anyway, and definitely shouldn't have worn some of the things she had an eye on.