Owner	Pose
Warren Worthington	Warren Worthington the Third was dressed in a bright linen tunic with short sleeves and platinum bands on his wrists that made him look like he'd escaped from a very expensive prison. With white wool dress slacks and crisp italian leather shoes, he looked like he may have driven or been drive here rather than flown. A thick, soft, textured sweater was folded over one arm after having been removed once in the climate controlled interior of the school. There was a sound, as of someone, gently rapping, rapping at her chamber door as Angel knocked with the bottom of the bottle of wine he'd brought with him. "Its Warren. Are you alone?"
Kitty Pryde	Within the room, Kitty has settled in the for the night. The fireplace is crackling merrily. Starting a fire is never difficult when you have a fire-breathing member of the Flock as your best little buddy. Kitty's settled into one of the two chairs in front of the fire. Her one legs is thrown over the arm of the chair as she rests her head on the chair back, a somewhat dogeared copy of To Kill A Mockingbird in hand. She's wearing a pair of boxer shorts and tank top tee. A bag of cheesy poofs is nearby, though those are all going to Lockheed as he rests across her lap while she reads. As she hears the voice at the door, her face lights up a bit. "Depends on if dragons count. Door's unlocked," she calls back to him.
Warren Worthington	"Don't mess with me girl. This is not how I want to meet your new boyfriend. Okay, ready or not." and with that he summed his courage and moved within. Warren brough with him the fresh air and vague hints of sandalwood, sage, and lavender. He looked happy, his skin blushed with health, his posture tall and superior with only his affable nature to save him from scorn. "I've brought you wine, I know my place." he said, smiling with lidded, amused, eyes. He gave Lockheed a nod, "Sir. If you don't mind I intend to spoil your lifemate with attention for a few hours?"
Kitty Pryde	Lockheed gives a yawn and then sits up. Not that he ever disliked Warren, but the two became close during the time that he and Kitty were living at the penthouse. And hey, Warren survived the eventual split without looking like a pair of chicken wings left on the grill on high for four days. So that's a pretty clear sign the dragon liked him, isn't it? Kitty grins at the winged one and motions to a chair. "Wine? You know the way to a girl's heart," she tells him. "Was just sitting up and reading. Enjoying the fire while it's still cold enough out at night for one," she says. The window is cracked to let in just enough of the forty-something degree air from outside that the fire can be blazing and not leave it too warm. Though it is cozy.
Warren Worthington	Angel set about opening the wine and securing something to pour it into, as it happens he found one wine glass and poured a generous amount, then took the bottle by the neck like a vagabond and moved to sit as close as humanly possible to Kitty, on the arm of the chair she was sitting in. He drapped himself over the back; positioning himself to read what she was reading, the bottle swigged from once to wet his lips. "Unseasonably chilly tonight." he agreed, and then "Mmm." whe he saw what she was reading. He wasn't going to show off about it, he was already immediately comfortable, like he lived there. He belonged anywhere he wanted to, it was part of his nature of late. "You know who I drunk dialed last night?"
Kitty Pryde	Kitty Pryde reaches up behind her to rub a hand over Warren's, well, whatever is there where her hand lands. It's his chest as it turns out. Just a quick brush before she's turning the page on the book. Of course her phone and tablet both can can be used to read digital copies of books. But Kitty has told him before, some books just need paper. As he looks down at what she's reading, Kitty reads the current spot she's at aloud:   "First of all," he said, "if you can learn a simple trick, Scout, you'll get along a lot better with all kinds of folks. You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view-"   "Sir?"   "-until you climb into his skin and walk around in it."   Atticus said I had learned many things today, and Miss Caroline had learned several things herself. She had learned not to hand something to a Cunningham, for one thing, but if Walter and I had put ourselves in her shoes we'd have seen it was an honest mistake on her part. We could not expect her to learn all Maycomb's ways in one day, and we could not hold her responsible when she knew no better." "Yes, figured enjoy the fireplace while I can," she agrees about the weather. "No, who did you call?" she asks, looking up at him as he perches there above her.
Warren Worthington	"I'll be dogged," I said. "I didn't know no better than not to read to her, and she held me responsible..." he read on, eyes as sharp as could be. "I'll be dogged." he repeated as he sipped again, letting the warmth offered by her hand soak in. "Rogue came over and we spent two hours talking about you. Mostly about how proud are of you. She mentioned you were seeing someone new, and you know what I did?" he chuckled, "I pretended to be an adult about it." seeming to think this is funny. He put his hand over her hand to hold it there for a moment and then released, his hand was returning the greeting. There were two greetings, one audible, the other physical. Really there were four beings in the room. Both of their brains, and both of their bodies, and there where quite possibly some unshared objectives between them all. Likely, the bodies were waiting patiently.
Kitty Pryde	"Harper Lee really has some beautiful passages. There's one about a rose bush that just makes me sigh to read it," Kitty says with a smile. The book looks like it has seen better days, yet the wear and tear it has endured are signs of love, in a sense. As it has dispensed the story within many times over the years to the girl from Deerfield. Kitty takes a sip of the wine. "Ooooh," she says with a happy sigh. "You know, you'd think the Professor would have a big wine cellar. Just seems like the type. It'd probably be secret though to keep us from finding it." She leans her head back, which amounts to leaning it against Warren's abdomen since he's resting there along the back of the chair. "So anything special bring you up?" she asks. "And, wait so was it Rogue who you drunk dialed? Or was that a separate story?"
Warren Worthington	Warren was easy furnature at the moment, he swigged his bottle "Wait, hold on. Are suggesting there is a secret wine cellar on the grounds of this school? And are you suggesting that we could steal around like rogues, hah, and find it?" he reached down and smoothed hair across her forehead with his fingers, a nuturing touch that was not strictly necessary. "Because I think thats what you're suggesting, Shadowcat."
Kitty Pryde	Kitty considers how likely it might be. "No, I don't think there's actually one," she says. "I mean, granted I haven't gone through every space it could be, but I have taken a lot of short cuts up and down from the base. I mean if he can build an underground base and hangar and even a runway, I suppose a wine cellar certainly wouldn't be that difficult. And I'd have just had to stumble upon it or the path to it," she says thoughtfully. "I mean like the secret office, I found that eventually," she comments. Which might or might not be news to Warren what she's talking about. She takes another sip of her wine, while the fire continues to crackle and shed it's warmth on the trio. Speaking of the third person present, Lockheed hops down from her lap and moves over to the fireplace, crawling into it and lying down on the coals. "Ugh, you're going to get all ashy again," she comments to the dragon.
Warren Worthington	Warren was breifly distracted by Lockheed waddle-winging toward the fire. "As if you didn't enjoy bathing him." he commented wryly. There was a sound of air movement, a riffling, as his wings extended out and seemed to yawn, stretch, and reset the feathers back into perfect alignment like the keys on a player piano. Wings closed around the chair sealing her in for a moment, the very ends of his feathers drew across her insteps, to her ankles and along the length of her calves. His gaze was studiosly fixed on her now, his ovations where obvious, "Speaking of things you enjoy?"