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The gargoyle could tell Booker had retreated before Nessa opened the door-- the retreat of the grey tones, which had almost been completed, reversed. Swirls of grey slowly reclaimed freckled tan, working its way up her feet, and over her lower legs... Gina watched the process until she heard the door click. A crooked smile greeted Nessa.

>> ”I guess it doesn’t quite come back right away, huh?”

"It takes a while," the gargoyle agreed, watching the progress, "The counselor at Xavier's is an Adapted-- someone who cancels-out mutations-- like Booker. But her range is smaller, I think. I don't think I was ever in her aura long enough to-- well-"

It was self, explanatory, really. She'd been doused in human-skintones. Gina was too distracted by the reversion back to her usual self to explain things in too much detail.

>> ”I want to be careful with how I say this. You are unbelievably gorgeous when you’re grey. The hottest woman I know, bar none. But you wear tan damn well. In either form, you are still utterly irresistible.”

The sound of pooling fabric pulled the gargoyle's gaze, and she smirked at Nessa, drinking her in. The gargoyle ran a cheeky hand over her curls, giving a facetious, "Thanks, I try~"

She wasn't that full of herself, honestly, but Gina knew what she had, and she worked with it. If anything, she was pragmatic. Her hand settled on the edge of the tub as a profoundly unclothed Nessa took a seat beside her and nestled against her neck. The gargoyle oh-so helpfully inclined her head, biting her lip. They might as well take advantage of her human-skin before it was reclaimed.

That gargoyle's breath caught when Nessa bit her, though. Totally different without her stony skin.

>> ”That’s better. You can wear that, too, for a few days…”

"Hey! No fair!" her protest was weak, and obviously not heartfelt. Gina traced the tender spot on her neck with an inquiring hand, warm brown eyes lingering in Nessa's. By now, her skin had reverted up to her waist, and was continuing its surge.

"So..." the gargoyle said, matching Nessa's expression, "What now?"

Her eyes didn't tarry from Nessa's, her mind churning with possibilities. Round two of "studying"? Was that even a possibility now that Booker was home? Or maybe, since they were already in the bathroom-- no, but her wings would get in the way-- but it'd be really nice to take a shower-- hmm--

Khalil had a flip phone, a basic little piece-of-crap phone due to his proclivity for burning them. No point in getting something flashy (which he desparately wanted) if it'd just go-up in flames. Besides, all of his phones were pay-as-you-go burners so that it was harder for authorities to find him.

The demon was noticeably distracted as the cowboy offered up his phone, focused more on the pulse between his ears than the conversation at-hand. He could hear himself breathing. His vision was swimming. This place was feeling more-and-more oppressive and the dread that washed over Khalil was starting to be too much. Still, he could feel his eyes throbbing against the darkness. And still, it looked like something was moving in the din, moving towards them.

NO, THERE WAS REALLY SOMETHING THERE. Finally, Khalil's hands caught flame, the yellow-green flame licking up past his wrists.

"The f**k is that!?" Khalil demanded, loud enough for the group to hear. There was definitely something there-- his light-sensitive eyes told him that. His heart hammered against his ribs. Stephanie had human-eyes, and the Scot with the glowing sword (oh, so he wasn't a mutant-hater, he was just a d**k...) likely also had human eyes... "Hey, Thermal Vision, you seein' this?"

If those f**kers, whatever the Hell they were, got to close, Khalil would torch them without a second throught. The first figure moved into his field of view, a little girl dressed as a ballerina... then another, a little boy dressed as a ninja... a kid in an apple costume, a teddy bear, a Power Ranger... kids with the same flat expression(s) stepping out of the gloom, barely registering the quartet of adults standing on the sidewalk.

"Oh Hell no," Khalil muttered. Torching full-grown adults was one thing-- a majority of the time, they deserved it-- but not kids. The flames dissipated from his hands, "The Hell is wrong with them?"

Khalil felt like he was going to be sick.

Gina managed to stop her giggling long enough to watch the interaction between Nessa and the aforementioned Booker. Booker, as in, brother-Booker. The Adapted brother-Booker.

"Nice to meet you," Gina mustered a full sentence, though her voice was thick with humor. It was around then that her tail went limp. Like, totally limp. Whaaaaaat the... she'd never been in Gemma's aura for long enough to hit this stage of unshifting. She backed-up a bit further into the bathroom, but to no avail. Apparently Booker had a huge range. Her vision blurred-- or perhaps a better way of putting was, started to lose its high-definition. The light wasn't as glaring. Their voices weren't as loud. And her skin was now... totally... human, all the way down to her toes.

At least her feet didn't look weird. But... this was kind of weird. Especially the whole limp-tail and dim vision thing.

"Um..." there wasn'r really a polite way to ask someone to leave. Thankfully, Booker dismissed himself.

>> ”Gina. It’s, um, lovely to meet you. My apologies for causing you any undress...I mean...distress… It seems that while my sister has a firm knowledge of my schedule, she has yet to grasp our earlier conversations about TEXTING in these instances. So, that being said, I’ll...close the door now. Again, lovely to meet you!”

And like that, Gina was closed in the bathroom.

"UM..." the gargoyle was momentarily bewildered by this, looking towards the overhead light or the toothbrush cup for answers. They offered none. Through the door she could hear Booker speaking hurriedly to Nessa, presumedly grilling her about the partially-clothed gargoyle in the restroom. It wouldn't be polite to intrude on their conversation... but Gina was also sequestered in the bathroom with no foreseeable way of escaping.

And, goddamnit, Booker's aura was still working its magic. The gargoyle smiled, a laugh attempting to escape through her nose as a snort, and she took a seat on the cusp of the bathtub, making sure not to step on her own tail.

"Mmm, I wear tan well," she mused to herself, surveying her legs. Eventually they'd realize that she was closed-in here and let the garogyle back out.

The gargoyle sipped her smoothie, listening as Momo bumbled her way through an explanation.

"Oh, like an operator?" Gina clarified between sips, "Oooohh, I can imagine how intense that could be. People calling you in crisis and stuff. I wouldn't have the heart for it."

The attention turned to Gina's smoothie, so she stopped drinking for a moment, surveying the beverage.

"Oh, this?" he gargoyle mused, "There's a smoothie shop a few blocks thataway-" she pointed in a vague direction, "Two blocks down and two blocks across. It's good. Better than the chain stuff."

Not that the chain stuff wasn't good, but this stuff... was way better.

"It's peanut butter, chocolate and banana," the gargoyle explained, "It's hard to get right. But this smoothie-maker did pretty well."

Siiiip. Yup, still tasted good. The gargoyle took advantage of the natural break in conversation, and fished her sketchbook out of her bag, setting it on her lap.

Congrats on the new guy, Manti. I love his power! It has a lot of potential (especially given his job > w > )

The man in the kilt closed-in on them, brandishing a weapon that looked plastic and blunt-- you had to be joking. Khalil continued his winsome tone, though the man practically grunted his response. Ruuuuude.

"Never seen anything like it~" Khalil assured the stranger. You'd have to be blind to miss the look in the Scot's eyes-- Khalil had seen that look a thousand times. It was the look of someone who'd passed judgement and found the guilty party, however misplaced the blame was. The demon pantomimed drawing an "X" over his heart with his right hand, and held his left hand upright, "Scout's honor."

He'd never been a Boy Scout, but that was irrelevant. When the Scot turned his attention to Stephanie and Malia, Khalil took the opportunity to scout the surroundings, and spied an approaching pair of glowing eyes. His right palm sparked but did not catch. It was enough to make his heart stutter a bit.

But then the glowing eyes belonged to an amicable looking cowboy. O-kay then. Stephanie handled the response to the cowboy, a sharp retort about the situation at-hand and her intention to get the Hell out of there by any means necessary. Khalil cast a quiet glance between her and the newcomer, smiling apologetically. He agreed that the best option was to get out of this predicament, but honestly had no idea about how that would be possible. Did they find the edge of this nightmare-scape and leave it for someone else to clean up? Or did they look for the source.

"I would offer to survey things from above, but I think flying's out of the question," Khalil advised the newcomers, "With how warped everything looks, I might fly into a building." And Heaven forbid he marr his perfect, painted face, "And besides, these two are my first priority-" he nodded to Stephanie and Malia, "-so I can't leave them behind."

Everything seemed to swim around them. Khalil though he'd had his back to the park, and-- hey, had that three always been there? Even if the two newcomers had come from the outside, it would be impossible to say if walking the same direction would lead them back out.

"So why don't we... choose a direction... and see where it takes us?" Khalil offered. And yes, he really did say we. Even though he had a niggling suspicion about these guys (stranger danger, and all that), it would be easier for three people to protect Stephanie and Malia then it would be for just him to protect them. And it was common knowledge that there was safety in numbers.

The scarlet-skinned demon had already been close to the brunette-- but when Stephanie backpedaled, she nearly stepped squarely onto the demon's foot. Khalil inhaled sharply, pulling his foot out from under her. Unease was replaced by thin annoyance. Stephanie rebuked his suggestion with a sharp retort, and the demon held a placating pair of gloved hands up in surrender.

>> ”That’s a lovely idea. Feel free to tell me which direction leads to ‘out.’ Far as I can tell, this stuff is spreading far and fast. If we go that way, we could just end up lost in the dark.”

"Up?" Khalil proposed, fanning his wings ever so slightly. His voice was pleasant but disingenuine. He was doing best to behave but, God help him, her tone didn't help. Sure, they could bumble around on-foot for hours, but if he could somehow fly above the fog, get a visual on the scope of how far it'd spread... or hell, just fly out of it... who was he kidding. It would be dangerous to fly without clear visuals of their surroundings. He might fly into a tree, or a building, and then what? Plus, if he went against Poseidon's orders by leaving Stephanie on the ground (God knew she wouldn't deign to let him carry her)... his *ss would be as good as dead.

Peevishly, the demon removed the gloves he'd donned, which had been painted to look like carpals, metacarpals, et cetera, and stuck them in his back pocket. He'd taken too much time on those to let them go up in flames. He also unsnapped his coat, particularly the sections that accomodated his wings, and let it slide down his back. Though it'd been made to look all ragged and with fake cobwebs, it was a nice coat... and he wouldn't risk burning that, either. It was thus that Khalil stood shivering in a t-shirt that'd been painted to look like a skeletal torso.

>> ”Mommy, I’m scared.”

>> ”I know, baby, but it’s going to be okay. Mister Khalil will keep us safe. Right?”

"That's right," Khalil managed a bright response, kneeling down to Malia's level, "I'll keep you safe. Can you keep my coat safe for me?"

Malia gave him a solemn nod, and Khalil draped the massive suit coat around her shoulders.

"If anyone gives you or Mommy any trouble," Khalil assured the kid, his voice dropping to furtive tones, "I'll burn them in the butt! Just like in the cartoons! Wouldn't that be funny?"

Malia gave him a little half-smile, but didn't laugh. Ah, well, couldn't blame him for trying. He didn't expect her to take the bait that easily, either. Kids were smart. They knew when grown-ups were scared.

"Someone's probably just playing a mean trick on us, is all," Khalil declared, rising to his full height once again. His honey-gold eyes cut towards Stephanie again, waiting for her command. He kept his wings slightly fanned, as if ready to shield them at any moment.

>> ”Khalil… if that guy… or thing… or whatever gets too close, you have my every blessing to blast him…”

What guy? He followed her gaze, humming quietly to himself. There was a rather interesting character striding towards them, toting a sword and looking rather... anachronistic. But it was also Halloween. And, as someone who looked distinctly hell-borne, Khalil wasn't really in the position to be placing blame on people. He elected for a casual approach.

"Evening!" Khalil called-out in an almost sing-song to the kilt-wearing man, "Quite the, uh, Halloween weather we're having, huh?"

Though his greeting was pleasant enough, his body language was contrary-- his twitching tail, his slightly-fanned wings, the heat that was starting to emanate from the palms of his hands. He wasn't standing still, either. He stood to one side of the ladies, but he was on high-alert, eyes combing the darkness for additional threats.