Owner Pose
Kitty Pryde The X-men training session in the Danger Room has come to an end. The scenario was an attack by the Brood, which the X-men hope no longer exist at least anywhere near to Earth since Jean used the Phoenix Force to wipe them out. Though the team has long ago learned it is better to be prepared even for foes they don't expect to face again.

The rest of the team file out, heading off to clean up or eat. The battle site, a recreation of Boston, begins to shut down as the hard light holograms shut down one by one. Bobby got hit by a particularly sticky, nasty stream of goop emitted by one of the Brood before the X-men achieved their victory. Freezing it helped get rid of some of it, but it's still kind of nasty and clinging to him. As the Danger Room shuts down the scenario bit by bit, the goop still remains.

Kitty walks past with Lockheed on her shoulder. She pauses near to Bobby and grins at him. "If x.target='Bobby Drake' then increment goop.timer=+5 minutes..." she tells him. She laughs and then runs for the exit while Bobby is still stuck, getting out before he can do anything to her.

The door closes behind her, and the scenario keeps shutting down. Finally Bobby is completely free as the goop fades away to harmless photons. He's the last one out of the Danger Room then.
Bobby Drake "He SLIMED me," Bobby had remarked, doing a fairly good impression of Bill Murray in the process, when he got hit by the goop. It was all fine and dandy, jokes and laughs, as he was shaking it off. Until Kitty pulled out the dirty, dirty trick. "You better not..." Bobby had started, knowing where she was going. But of course, there is no convincing Kitty to give up a good prank. He knew that, despite his effort. So instead, he stared icicles at her (literally - he sent a few extending out in her direction, but more for comedic effect than anything else). "You're gonna regret that, Pryde."

He didn't quite know how, yet, but he figured he had a good five minutes at least to do nothing but think of some ideas. And so Bobby Drake stood, covered in goop, with nothing on his mind but vengeance.

When the goop finally concluded its fade, Bobby stretched out for a moment, limbering up his body after being stuck in the same spot for entirely too long. "Should I find out if Lockheed could be a frost dragon?" He shakes his head as he heads towards the exit. "No, Lockheed didn't ask for this. Maybe I'll snow up her closet. That would serve her right."

The door to the Danger Room opens as Bobby continues ruminating. "Maybe just her sheets...ice sheets." He pushes the button for the elevator. "Cold socks, maybe. Shoes will be fine, but socks...damp and frozen." He steps into the elevator as it arrives, and turns around. As the doors close, he has a sudden realization.

"What if that wasn't the prank...that was just the delay tactic to give her time to..." The closing of the doors maintains the PG-13 language for the scene.
Kitty Pryde When the elevator arrives at the top floor and Bobby steps out, where a hallway of the familiar mansion should be, is nothing but sand dunes as far as the eye can see.

The sound of the elevator door closing behind him can be heard, and by the time he turns back, there is no elevator. No wall. Just more endless desert extending behind him. The sun is burning overhead. The air is so dry that forming more than enough ice cubes for a drink might be a struggle.

Not that he has a drink.

The sun is high in the sky. Noonish, Bobby's training would tell him. The sand is very fine and powdery. It is reminiscent of the Sahara, though it could be any number of similar places. That he can't see anything but sandy dunes in any direction certainly could make it that giant desert.

Actually he does see something. Buzzards. Drifting on the winds high up. Moving to fly around him and circle.
Bobby Drake For a moment, Bobby stands there. "She wouldn't have." He looks around slowly, eyes narrowing a bit. "Feels hot. Feels dry." He reaches up to wipe his brow slowly.

He starts to look around with a bit more of a discriminating eye. "I'm still in the Danger Room. She wants me to panic. But I don't smell brimstone..." He sits down in the sand. "This is totally a Moriarty in the shuttlecraft. Fake hallway, fake elevator." He looks up into the sky, not at the sun, but off in the distance, where the observation window might be. "I was thinking it'd be nice to get a tan, Kitty. Thank you," he calls out, as if for her benefit.
Kitty Pryde If indeed the control room is up there, there is no answer from it. No mocking laughter or revealing of a window with a grinning face behind it. Nope, nothing but the buzzards and the sand. And the heat. Did we mention how hot it was?

And it's kind of boring in the desert too. Nothing happens for about ten minutes, to the point Bobby might start to wonder at what is going on. And then he spies something at the top of a sand dune that rises in front of him. A pair of men, moving with an odd swaying motion. It's soon clear why that is as the camel's they are riding on crest the top of the sand dune.

They are dressed like desert nomads. Wraps of clothing sheltering them from the sweltering sun. And each has a big sword, like a khopesh, on his belt. One points towards Bobby, and they change direction, their camels heading down the dune towards him. They stop some distance away, eying him. "Who are you, to be traveling in these lands, stranger?" one asks in accented English.
Bobby Drake Right as Bobby is starting to lose his confidence that Kitty is waiting it out from a window above, the beduins arrive. It's a good thing, too, as he was about one minute away from taking off his pants and wrapping his head to capture what moisture he was perspirating out. That would have been embarassing.

The fact that they speak English, and this is not a movie, still has him thinking that this may just be Kitty keeping the heat on. Well, he is not about to let her see him sweat.

Oh, there is no real way to prevent that, at this point. But sweat AND panic - never!

Bobby waves his hand towards the strangers, and keeps both hands out. "I am Bobby," he replies. "And I apologize for the intrusion. Can you please help me understand where I am? I'm lost."
Kitty Pryde The two men look at Bobby and then at each other. "We are not used to encountering... well, anyone out this far," one says to Bobby. "Were you in a plane crash or something?" he asks, glancing around the surrounding desert. "We are about 75 km west of the oasis of Harat Zuwayyah," he says, naming a location that Bobby might place as being in Libya!

They look at each other again, then one rests his hand on the pommel of his sword. "But these are our lands. You shall return with us to our camp, and explain yourself there," he says, this man a little bit sterner than his companion. Not just the voice, but his face. The eyebrows. Very bushy. It makes him look stern.

He gestures with an upraised hand as someone might use when offering a chair or the like. Though in this case he seems to be suggesting to Bobby the direction he should start walking. There's nothing particular to stand out about it. Just up a sand dune (and down a sand dune and up a sand dune and down a sand dune...)
Bobby Drake "I woke up here, and am sadly unsure how I got here." Bobby glances around slowly, as if to show his confusion. There is no wreckage, and certainly, no foot prints beyond the spot right around him there the "elevator" dropped him off.

"Of course, I appreciate your hospitality. I know that it is legendary," replies Bobby, placing his hands out to other side and bowing low for a moment. It gives him the advantage of being able to hide his mouth from them, as he mutters darkly to himself what he will do to Kitty when he gets back. Then he straightens, and offers that optimistic Bobby Drake smile. "I will be happy to explain, and offer what service I can." He turns to go in the indicated direction.
Kitty Pryde It's a long trek. If Bobby could ice-slide it would not be long at all. But having to walk up the dunes makes for rough going, especially in temperatures that are far above 100 degrees.

The two men ride behind and to either side of Bobby. At one point one of them gets his canteen that is hanging from his camel, taking a length drink and then replacing it. No water offered to the stranger it seems.

After a good 45 minutes of walking in the grueling heat, Bobby spots a bit of smoke ahead. Not long after he tops a dune and sees a small encampment in an area that has some sparse vegetation growing there. A temporary camp, tents mostly, ranging from one large one to a dozen smaller. Some small goats are grazing under the eyes of boys, and as Bobby and the two men approach the camp, more children come out to eye the man in the strange clothes.

The two men dismount, giving their camel's reins to someone else who takes the animals. They gesture Bobby towards the largest tent. "You will present yourself before the leader," one says.

The curtain covering the tent is drawn back, revealing a spacious interior, far more sumptuous looking than the simple tents suggested. There are cushions and chests and a bed made of pillows and soft-looking animal furs.

And lounging in some kind of low-resting, cushioned sedan chair is a young brunette woman. Wearing a beautiful, beaded garment that leaves her midriff and shoulders bare, as well as much of her legs. Her eyes are kohled and she has gold rings upon her fingers.

Kitty Pryde gets a look of curiosity as Bobby and the two men step inside. Lockheed is lying on a cushion at Kitty's feet, curled up and snoozing. There's a low table with all sorts of grapes and dates and other fruit, and a glass holding a beverage. Perspiration beads on it, which in this dry climate says just how cool and refreshing it must be.

"And what is this you've brought me?" Kitty asks. The two men just gesture Bobby forward to answer for himself.
Bobby Drake It was a long trek, but Bobby keep himself focused on two things as he went - slowly drawing what moisture he could from the air along with him, establishing a small cushion of humidity that he could deploy when the time was right as a gift to the leader he was set to meet with, and what he was going to do to Kitty at the end of his journey. Many, many plots turned over in his head. There was one involving a spit and a fire going through his mind by the time he entered the camp, perhaps inspired by the smells of the fire as he went inside the tent.

Upon his arrival, he was able to at least somewhat suppress the smirk that wants to make its way to his lips. Of course she is here. It's her scheme. Unfortunately all of the carefully curated schemes for vengeance he had plotted and filed on the long walk over fled entirely from his brain, suddenly replaced by very different schemes as he saw her in the desert outfit.

Having had the presence of mind to prepare a gift for the "leader", Bobby bows his head, playing along. "I bring gifts for the glorious leader," he says, focusing his attention for a moment, drawing the vital moisture he has been trailing with him. Three small ice cubes appear, just above her glass, before they plink down to join the liquid.
Kitty Pryde Kitty-nomad sits up a little straighter at the mention of gifts. "Gifts?" she says in a pleased voice, and a small smile grows across her lips as she looks Bobby over for what he might be referring to.

As the ice cubes form above her drink and plop into the cold beverage, Kitty breaks out in a bright smile and gives a little clap of her hands. "This pleases me," she says in a tone as if she's unused to such pleasant surprises. She rests her chin lightly upon a hand as she visually inspects Bobby Drake for a few more moments and then looks to the two Bedouin.

"Another drink," she tells them. "And also we require music." The two men bow quite deeply to her and then depart.

"Come, stranger, and be seated before me," she tells him. "You look as if you had a long, and unexpected journey," she says. If Bobby sits down, she offers her drink to him while she waits for another. It definitely has alcohol, quite strong, but a delicious, fruity flavor to it. And so cold after that long walk.
Bobby Drake There is a lot of suspicion going through Bobby Drake's mind at this entire situation. But for the moment, he plays along. It is not really that hard, as a pleased and friendly smile comes on his face at Kitty's reaction to the ice. He notes the inspection, and decides to go along with this as well, allowing his arms to drift out, putting himself on a bit of a display.

He seems pleased to hear the request for another drink. An eyebrow definitely arches at the suggestion of music. Bobby starts to think back, wondering if he has recently watched Game of Thrones or some other such thing. ~Emma, Jean, Betsy, I swear if this is one of you, I will never forgive you.~ He pauses, and decides not to even give further thought to whether it could be the Professor. How would Kitty have convinced them to set up such a detailed ... well, fantasy. And how would she have known? Something was not adding up.
    Bobby moves forward as requested, and lowers himself down, legs crossed, before Kitty's seat. "Both long, and unexpected," agrees Bobby. "But easily worth it to enjoy such hospitality." He accepts the drink with a smile, and takes a sip from it.

He closes his eyes for a moment. He knows that any minute now, she'll yank the rug out from under him. And of course, given the current setup, leave him on the sand. But she has won, and he may as well accept that and at least enjoy it for what it is. He opens his eyes, little more than a pause, and smiles up at her - while ordinarily being forced to sit on the floor before her while she reclines in a chair might seem a bit on the insulting side, it is not without its benefits at the present moment. If this was a dream, or a mental vision, at least whoever crafted it did a _damn_ good job at cultivating a memorable image. "Thank you," he says, raising the glass briefly in salute to her.
Kitty Pryde Kitty's chair is itself just a few inches above the level of the floor. Apparently wood must be scarce enough they don't go in for full legs on furniture. Kitty inclines her head as Bobby thanks her, the young woman's kohled eyes studying him with an intensity. Or maybe that's contained laughter? They look kind of alike.

The tent flap opens and two men come in, sitting down on the other side of the tent with two varieties of stringed instruments. Should Bobby be a specialist on Bedouin instruments, he'd know they are a Rababa, and El Oud, and that's some eye to detail if this isn't real. One brings a fresh beverage over, bowing as Kitty takes it, and then joins the other. They begin playing softly.

Kitty just seems to enjoy the moment for now, sipping her drink and allowing Bobby to do the same. The drink definitely helps, and the air inside the tent is much cooler than the sweltering desert outside.

"So," Kitty tells him finally. "I have enjoyed such an unexpected visit. Though I imagine you probably have other places that you wish to get to. Though having you here has been a small, imposition on us," she says, eyes drifting away from him as if in thought.

"Oh, I know. A way that you can repay the hospitality. Yes, and after which, you can be about your journey home. Yes, yes," she says, leaning forward and giving Bobby a smile. And, probably not intentionally, another nice view.

"You shall dance for me before you go," she says.
Bobby Drake Bobby spends a great deal of time studying the Beduin Kitty. It is certainly a great look for her - embracing her Semitic roots. But he has been an X-Man long enough to know that there is at least a slim possibility that he is in some alternate world, and this isn't his Kitty playing a long con. Her selling of the act is certainly commendable, if so. He looks back as the musicians arrive, and he nods to each of them.
    He takes another long sip of the drink, thinking to himself. She wouldn't actually do him harm. She wouldn't poison him. Right? "There are people who rely upon me, unfortunately, and I do need to return to them. There are certainly some who deserve the fullness of my attention." His eyes twinkle for a moment as he says this - if this is really Kitty, it would be good for her to appreciate the gravity of his response to this escalation.

The problem with traps is that if they are well crafted, you could know it is a trap and it still won't help. He fails in whatever resolution attempt he makes to resist a glance - an internal battle between not giving her the satisfaction of winning and not denying himself the satisfaction of at least enjoying some aspect of the trap is decided in favor of indulging. At least he manages to avoid letting a dopey smile appear on his face. He thinks, anyway. He is beyond the point of being able to feel as if he is evading this stunt. The request, though...

Bobby's eyes look up to hers. He narrows them slightly. It all becomes apparent what her end game is. He narrows his lips a bit, and then nods slowly. "I certainly cannot decline such a reasonable request, given the extents to which..." Bobby sighs slowly as he rises up from his position. But if he is going to suffer the indignity of surrendering to her scheme, and what will no doubt be the lingering effects of however she plans to secretly record this, he will at least steal another look as he rises at Beduin Kitty.

And then, Bobby Drake, the Iceman, takes a half step back, and nods to her. He steps a long step back with one leg, bowing deeply, his arms going out in either direction. And then he dances. A slow, sinuous dance, the nearest approximation he can summon forth of a Beduin style dance. While he lacks the veils and skirts and anything else that might make it look slightly less ridiculous, he has the moves. And for flair, as his arms extend above his head, his fingers flicker to allow a small cascade of snowflakes to drift down, as his hips sway and he spins they are sent lofting out in the direction of the musicians, Lockheed, and Beduin Kitty. In for inch, in for a mile. Bobby Drake never does anything halfway.
Kitty Pryde When Bobby speaks about giving someone the fullness of his attention, was there the tiniest little twitch at the corner of her lips? Perhaps it was his imagination, it's difficult to tell. Especially when Bedouin Kitty is distracting by being all, distracting.

She rests back in her chair and watches as Bobby dances. He cuts a fine form, without a doubt, and seeing his body in motion only brings out certain aspects all the more. The young woman relaxes as she watches, though at some point her hand ends up resting against her face, and perhaps her teeth might have lightly clamped down on the tip of her index finger once.

The music accompanies him, until finally the young woman leans back forward again. "A better entertainment I have not had for many risings of the sun," she tells him. "It will almost be a pity to see you go," she tells him. Her eyes play over him without any twitch of a smile of jest, leaving him nothing new as to the nature of what he's experiencing.

Bedouin Kitty rises from her chair. When she walks it's like the movement of a dancer, the slender, tanned legs carrying her with a grace to a table where she picks up a flower. A tiny magenta desert bloom, which she carries over to him. "Take this as a memory of our time together," she says, resting one hand on his chest for a moment as the other hand reaches up to tuck the flower into his hair!

She looks into his eyes and the fingers on his chest gently tap it. "Now go, stranger, and you will be shown the way home," she tells him before turning and moving back to her chair. She sits down, and Lockheed wakes, stretches, and walks over to hop into her lap and curl up again.
Bobby Drake Bobby is focused on Beduin Kitty for the entirety of his dance - if he is going to be subjected to this, he should at least reap the rewards of watching her reactions. Upon the conclusion of his movements, he watches her approach. He has to admire her commitment to the role - at least that's a polite way to refer to what he is admiring. And if it's not actually Kitty, at least it is a convincing enough re-creation.

In spite of himself, he lets loose a slow, soft sigh as she presents the flower. His heart beats fast at the touch of her hand, and he leans his head forward as she moves the flower into his hair. "Thank you. Your hospitality is exceeded only by your grace." Game respects game, and Bobby has to acknowledge her win, and give her her due. "I will treasure it always."

Bobby watches her turn to return to the chair, remaining in place until she takes her seat. Polite? Yes. Just to watch her go in the Beduin outfit? Maybe. "Thank you, again," he says, extending both hands out to either side as he bows low. After straightening, he wiggles his fingers, producing another series of ice cubs to fall into her glass. "Something for you to remember me, if slightly more transient." He gives her a smile, acknowledgement, before he turns and strides out of the tent.

As he emerges from door and it slides closed behind him, he turns back quickly to try to see who remains, if any, in the Danger Room, but it is closed too quickly.

Bobby sighs softly to himself, and shakes his head. "Well played, Kitty." He knows that with her phasing power, she could already be anywhere within the Mansion, whether that was her in the Danger Room or in the Control Room. He lingers for a moment, allowing himself to commit the scene to memory. It is only then that he realizes the flower is still in his hair. He reaches out to brush his fingers against it, as if confirming its presence, before a slow smile crosses over his face.

Just in case, he makes his way up towards the Control Room to see who, if anyone, may still be there. But he takes his time, savoring for the moment the interaction before facing the inevitable "gotcha" that may already be waiting for him...
Kitty Pryde Though there is no one in the control room. Just the machines humming silently in their normal fashion when the Danger Room is offline. The chairs are empty and no one seems to be about.

No further gotcha. Just a memory and a flower with a soft, sweet scent to it.
Bobby Drake Bobby sighs as he arrives in the control room, nodding to himself. As he expected. He reaches up to take the flower from his hair, bringing it to his nose and taking a long, deep inhalation of that sweet scene before releasing a soft, happy sigh. He lingers for a few minutes in the control room, before making the slow trek back up to his room.