Amy: This girl's most apparent and instantly noticed feature is that her skin is as red as that of an apple. Since she clearly has no compunctions about showing this off, the rest of her features are quite visible as well. Two reddish-black horns protrude from her forehead, small adornments on her bald head. Her scarlet features are quite lovely, if one can get past her elongated canines and solid black eyes. She adequately displays that, yes, the red is everywhere by wearing a white tanktop and a pair of cutoff shorts. The denim shorts have a hole ripped in the seat to make room for the three-foot tail that dangles down behind her, tapering to a smooth tip. A distinct lack of shoes displays that, like her fingers, her toes sport naturally black nails. School House Road Beacon Harbor's first schoolhouse was located along a narrow dirt road that has grown, as the city has, to be a four lane thoroughfare. The original schoolhouse is still located along the north side of the road, the Beacon Harbor Preservation Society allowing tours between noon and four every weekend. The sprawling campus of Beacon Harbor University dominates most of the southern side of the street, then on for many acres southward. Known for its expert faculty, award winning programs and top notch development, it is the highlight of the academic growth of city and situated nicely across from the old schoolhouse. Dormitories and other student housing line the northern side of the street, as well as the occasional Fraternity or Sorority house. ****************************************************************************** Today's Weather: The air is moist and wet, as a rain stings the ground as it falls. The sun is entirely obscurred by the clouds overhead, with the sky remaining a dull grey behind them. A small breeze wisps down the streets, forming a thin, crispy layer of ice on the ground. ****************************************************************************** It's cold. Pete's very familiar with how cold this city gets in the winter. This time around, however, he's doing a hell of a lot better. For one thing, there's the warm coat. And gloves. And hat. And Dr Who scarf. For another thing, well hey - there's this woman walking with him this time around. A woman who's also bundled up, and who's holding on to his arm, and who goes home with him and tolerates his jokes and makes things complete in so many ways. So, see, he's not completely surly because he's out in the snow, and for once he doesn't give a damn that it's Christmas. He has better things to think about. "No no, the Hunan Wok is *south*! They're the ones with the /really/ daft fortune cookies..." The woman in question may be keeping an unusually sharp eye out, and glancing up toward the sky at irregular and wary intervals, but she's still /there/. And she really, really is wearing a shirt under that coat that reads 'I Saved The World And All I Got Was This Lousy T-Shirt,' which may partly explain the putting up with jokes part. "And your navigation skills are of course impeccable," Kitty returns with prompt amusement. "Okay, let's try south, then. If all else fails, we can /still/ catch a taxi later." Presuming they don't wind up wherever it is they're going in the next, oh, several hours. "How daft /are/ we talking about? 'This fortune cookie will self-destruct in five seconds... four...'" When time is something that can be clapped on and clapped off at a whim, one develops strange sleeping habits. One such as Amy, for example, who decided to prolong Christmas Day by pausing it, going to bed, and getting up to windowshop and take in the ambience of snowflake-filled air in the void of no-time. The horny little red-skin flits down the street, shivering as the occasional time-phased flake passes through her otherwise warm, down-swaddled body. She stops short at a window and gazes in at the wares of an independent toy shop, grinning to herself. One complication looms, unnoticed, for the mephistophelic miss; between sleeping in the void, and hours of window-shopping in the void, Amy's just about hit her time limit. In fact, she'll be forcibly ejected in three.. two.. one.. "EEEee!" In the world of realtime, a pink parka-clad girl with red skin and a scarf-wrapped tail appears four feet above the ground directly in front of Pete and Kitty, and proceeds to fall, shrieking softly, toward the icy sidewalk. "Fuck!" Such an intelligent exclamation. And, hey. Falling. Sidewalk hard, and cold. The arm that is not occupied with Kitty's arm (and still belongs to Pete) darts out, having a go at either catching the falling person or at least breaking said person's fall a /little/. "Pryde, your countdown wasn't supposed to /work/!" "I didn't mean it!" Kitty yelps - /after/ her first defensive flinch back and against Pete, and the corresponding rather disturbing instant of intangibility. At least that instant is when Pete's /starting/ to reach, thank you reflex, not when he might actually be in contact with the girl. "Are you okay?" Sometimes courtesy is also almost reflex. Particularly when alarm at appearances is so quickly counteracted by ... well ... how can you be afraid of someone in a pink parka? Between Pete's helpful arm, Amy's helpfully balancing tail, and the good fortune of hitting a relatievly iceless patch of sidewalk, the girl lands more or less on her feet. Straightening up, she pants, adrenaline racing through her system. "Yy-yeah, I'm ffuh-fine. I'm suh-ss-sorry." As the girl's dark eyes fall on Pete and Kitty (what a normal, wholesome looking couple!) she pulls away from the man's helping hand, waiting for the running and the screaming. "No no, quite all right," reassures Pete, only letting the hand fall when Amy pulls away from it. "Does that happen often? You're liable to get hurt, eventually." There's a slight pause, and he glances at Kitty, eyebrows up. "No blue, right? Or am I going blind, now?" Pete looks wholesome? Since when? Okay, admittedly, there's the scarf, but... "No blue," Kitty confirms, with a remarkable lack of running and screaming. "The glare off the snow hasn't killed your vision /quite/ yet. Give it another ten minutes." She lets out a breath, then flashes an instant of smile and lifts her hand toward the girl in something like a wave. "Hi?" "Nn-no," Amy grins, looking sheepish. "I lost tt-track of tuh-time." Yeah, that clears everything up. The girl pauses to breathe in, then breathe out, trying to calm her frazzled nerves enough to get a sentence out of her mouth at least halfway straight. The exchange between the couple gets an uncertain look, until Amy's face breaks into a grin. "Oh! Kuh--" nonono, costume name! "Nn-Nightcrawler!" She giggles. "N-no, I'm Amy." Teleporter of a different colour. That actually gets a quick grin from Pete, and he glances at Kitty again, unspoken exchange once more in progress - but then his attention's on Amy, and he shakes his head, holding out a hand. "Meant the portal effect, actually. Hullo, Amy - I'm Pete, this is Kitty. And don't worry, your trick smells quite a bit better than his." Pause. "Considering it didn't." Hand still out, another glance at Kitty, this one sheepish. "Am I talking too much?" "For you? No." Kitty darts Pete a sweet smile - okay, partway sweet - and then turns her attention back to Amy. "Hi, Amy. Don't mind the guy here, he's harmless." Well, no he's not, but for purposes of the conversation. "Sure you're okay? Didn't turn an ankle or anything, right?" Tails are handy that way. Ah, balance. Oh, different blue. But they know about Nightcrawler, so she isn't a total geek! She can pretend it was a pop cultural reference. They probably see him on the news, or something. "N-nice to meet you." She takes Pete's hand, her own mittened in black, then looks to Kitty. "Buh-both of you." She wiggles her feet experimentally and grins, shaking her head. "No, I'm ff-fine. Thanks." "Well, that's good," says Pete, breathing on both his hands after a second, failing to let go Kitty's arm. Mine mine mine. Hah. "Listen, unless you've got someplace to go, we're desperately looking for the Hunan Wok. They've brilliantly dotty fortunes in their cookies..." This is an invitation. Poorly worded, but an invitation. "... and he seems to think this is a selling point," Kitty adds wryly. "If nothing else, it's warmer than standing around - or falling down - out here." And if you have red skin and are wearing pink, you could probably use being bought some food. Though that may just be a matter of Kitty's private taste in clothes. "Oh, um. I th-think it's right down.." Amy begins to point, having a hard time interpreting Pete's invitation as being such for a moment. "Oh!" She smiles, a blush invisibly touching her red cheeks. "I.." The smile becomes a grin. "Okay!" Gosh, people are nice. Amy's weight shifts from one foot to the other, ready to fall into step with Pete and Kitty. Now that she mentions it, the devilgirl hasn't eaten in at least twelve hours. "See? South. She agrees, Pryde, I'm *right*, it's *south*, you can quit mocking me now," says Pete, leaning over to Kitty for a second, then looking smug, tugging them both in the direction Amy was beginning to point. Which isn't, incidentally, south at all. "I'm having the orange chicken. And lo mein. Chicken lo mein. And beer. Because damnit they have beer there." Kitty's tugged without protest - well, without protest on the moving. "Pete," she says patiently, "south is /that/ way." Apologetic and amused glance to Amy, and she adds, "Just to check - you can handle Chinese food, right? No weird allergies or anything?" And you don't have to feed on human flesh, do you? Or vampire-style? That'd be a little awkward. Amy has no idea what direction that is she just pointed. If asked to give it a name, she'd call it 'Hunan Wokwards'. The name 'Pryde' rings a quiet bell in the back of the girl's mind, but it's part of a tune she just can't recall at the moment. Kitty gets a fanged grin. "I ll-love Chinese food." Amy falls into step, or at least, into the general area of step, blue scarf-swaddled tail bouncing behind her as she alternates from just behind the couple to walking alongside Kitty and back. "Good-oh, because good luck finding much else open tonight," laughs Pete, fishing his freed hand into his pocket, looking for his cigarettes. Which he eventually finds, regardless of gloves, and lights complicatedly. Magic! "So you know Kurt?" Conversational. Perfectly calm. Friendly. "Not that Chinese food doesn't deserve love for its own sake," Kitty puts in, quite aside from there not being much else open on Christmas. She keeps glancing around, for more reasons than to be able to look at Amy when the befanged girl is behind them. Watching, and letting Pete's question stand on its own. Amy is glad she's behind Pete and Kitty when she tries to answer the question, because her expression does very little to hide the fact that she's conflicted about answering. "Ww-- uh, I mm-mean.. yy--" When she's flustered and stalled well beyond any casual period of time, the girl sighs and says, in a deliberately transparent tone, "Kuh-Kurt who?" Wow do *I* suck. "Kurt of the blue and the bamf and the bizarre sense of humor and the addiction to pizza," returns Wisdom easily, taking a drag of his cigarette and attempting to exhale in a way that does not leave it directly in Amy's path. "You know." Gaze shifts to Kitty briefly; Pete doesn't move his head much in the process. Is this cause, he's wondering, for uh-oh? Kitty's answer is barely more than a twitch of an eyebrow: wait and see, but with some confidence. After all, Kurt hasn't been using the Nightcrawler name here that she knows of. "Definitely the addiction to pizza," she seconds aloud firmly. "Wuh-well, since you already seem to knn-know him.." Amy throws caution to the wind. They seem like nice people, and it sounds like they know Kurt at least a little. She skips up into step, falling in next to Kitty as she says, "I know him, yy-yeah. He luh-lives at the Solace House, with me." She opens and closes her mouth, flushing. "I, ah, I mean, not ww-*with* me, but. Um." She grins and looks down at the slushy sidewalk. Yeah, Kurt's a babe. Aww! That particular reaction gets quite the amused look from Pete, anyway. "So you know him pretty well, huh?" He's /awful/. Teasing. "Mention to him that we owe him beer, will you? It's been a little while." Ash on the pavement, mixing with the already-grey snowy slush. "Actually, I knew a counterpart of his really well - he was the leader." "And I owe him a call. Or, if he's at Solace House now, a stopping by. Possibly /with/ beer. Presuming the place doesn't have a policy against alcohol along with against cohabitation." Kitty's teasing, too, though maybe a little more gently. "You two get along okay?" "The l-leader of what?" Amy never knew Kurt to be the leader of anything. A valued member of the X-Men, sure, but never the leader. She turns a shy grin upon Kitty, shaking her head. "I, uh, d-don't see him a lot." She reaches up and brushes her hood back, scratching the back of her head. "I think I mm-make him a little uncuh-comfortable. I'm sorta a fan." She clears her throat and sticks her hands in her pockets, paying extra attention to the sidewalk.