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Whatever Margo could say about the X-men, they sure were careful. The hallways down here were nothing but fancy bio-scanning devices and doors; if she hadn't been so hyped to see this flight hangar, she'd have been intimidated by the place. Even as it was, she shivered slightly as she leaned against the cold metal of the wall, watching the colors as Jude "flashed his pass".

Orange red. Orange yellow orange.

Green.

O-oh. So that was the reason behind the detour down the adults' hallway, then. Genetic recognition? So Jude's power didn't just copy powers, but also genes? That sort of made sense and was really cool. Just her- amazing- luck.

Inside, it was as good as she'd imagined: on the smallish side, but it wasn't like there were all that many jets. Margo padded past the locker room and into the hangar itself, pausing near the doorway to take it all in- it was pretty amazing, actually- and give Jude a chance to catch up. "So, you been down here before?"

A slow clap for whoever had spray painted a blue X on the side of the jet, among other things.

"Oh you had better."

"Oh I will- agh- no-" As he attempted to tickle her, "Golly, I swear I'll kill you."

She was only halfway kidding as she caught Richard's hands in hers and glared. Hugs were fine and all, but tickling was a different beast altogether. Tickling was not OK, not even coming from her brother. It was something a brother would do, though. Margo gave in after a moment and smiled, just for the sentiment of the idea. The things family forgave.

"Coffeee...Teaaaaa...."

Rolling her eyes at the moan- everybody was addicted to caffeine these days- the younger zombie fell in right behind him.

In retrospect, she probably shouldn't have complained. Because the Danger Room had apparently taken it as a challenge and now they were surrounded by hordes of ice spiders, of all things, and life was so much better standing around aimlessly. Even with a grenade in your pocket.

Because seriously, spiders.

"Um," gulped Margo, just as eloquently. She backed into Danny, who'd somehow conjured a knife in each hand and was in the motion of dealing with a tarantula that had gotten uncomfortably close- he could do that, okay, that was great. "I'm...not a fan either. I think there used to be a kid in my class who had a pet tarantula?" It was totally relevant, because it kept her from panicking. Especially now that the spider army was skittering in their direction.

"So I know I said I wasn't that big on death blasts in general, but there wouldn't be a chance that you could get close enough and...?"

Emily's friend was trying to tell her something. That much was obvious from where Margo stood, listening in on the bits of the conversation which drifted her way. The cows didn't look too good, might have to cull the herd. Coyotes. Emily was getting something from the mumble jumble, speaking conversationally to Mary, something Margo couldn't quite pick up but got the gist of by the way her gaze tracked to the shed, to the smattering of white-coated men around the courtyard. She wasn't the only eavesdropper here.

Far from it. Her dread became fear coiled in the back of her throat behind her bored facade. This prison, those cuffs with the stagnant sort of glow some of the "patients" wore... She needed to get out and warn people about this place, now.

Movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention, and she turned just in time to see one of the younger women collapse with a choked cry. It beamed out over the open space, a guard's transmitter escaping her fingers as she fell- the guard himself was literally being strangled by a nearby shrub. The woman's bracelet seemed to glow fiercer than ever, and that was the last thing Margo knew before chaos overtook the courtyard.

"Ha, not me." Margo threw out her hands in a dunno kind of gesture, because there was only so much the girl down the street could see of such things. Psychics? He was just determined to make this hard for her. Half truths were lies, and if she'd been Pinocchio, her nose would probably have busted out of the side of this very awesome coffee shop by now. "Seriously, this stuff is the reason New York's so crazy. It's like a giant mutant hub, Hollywood and we're the side show."

For the record, Lucy had volunteered to be the guinea pig. If that even mattered- Margo was far from being an actual psychic, not that people who freaked out at the word "mutant" cared. That was freaking out in the positive sense as well-she was quickly coming to the conclusion that she'd never be able to step foot on the Mansion's front lawn again. Like, ever.

Also like how she should have known not to start a conversation with perhaps the one sane person here, because now he'd raised the topic of mutant privacy and not coolness and stubbornly refused to let it drop. Though his reaction to her probing was priceless- such a little slip of speech that revealed so much.

It would all make sense, if he was a mutant. The story of his normal, oblivious "friend," his curiosity, his unexpected objections to the mutant photos that were all over the web... It was far too early to let down her guard, but she could see where he'd be coming from. She read into his words. Uh-oh, what if someone took a picture of me? I gotta convince them it's not right or else they'll find out.

The boy couldn't know it, but if that were the case they were on the same side. He couldn't know it because he was arguing for himself, whereas she? She was arguing for an ambitious photographer who came into existence on Tuesday nights only.

"I don't mind this so much, your harping on my hobby. Honestly? I'm guilty as charged." A flash of a smile. She watched him put his feet up, continued to watch him but tried to be less intimidating, or whatever made him so self conscious all of a sudden (how could anyone be intimidated by a girl as silly as she made herself to be?) "You're wrong on one point, though; as far as this club is concerned, they are celebrities. The attendance rate of the Cold Steel fan girls are rather high tonight, actually."

Said fangirls' ears literally perked up at the name. Margo winked at them and tapped her keyboard to make it come back to life and spun the screen to show them a snap of the X boss himself. It was a lovely shot of his (rarely clothed but clothed this time!) backside, in fact, featuring what might as well have been an army of ice minions. They lost interest after a couple minutes, and she returned to the conversation.

"...as you just saw, sorry about that. But you don't see them as celebrities, do you? Some mutants are just people to you, like your friend, every bit an unwise high schooler."

((OOC: Continued from: Cold Rain Hot Tea ))

Margo woke before the crack of dawn in a room that was not hers, and it wasn't until her toes met the carpet in a moment of panic that she remembered the events of the previous night.

Exhaling softly, she laid back on the sofa- a sofa in Richard's living room, as it was. Richard himself was still fast asleep across from her, and she listened to the steady breathing of her newfound brother. What time was it? She'd always been an early riser, but they'd stayed up late last night, drunk on green tea and hot chocolate and more-than-friendship. She really shouldn't have been awake yet, but it was too late for that thought now.

She'd slept in her clothes, and it was just a matter of groping her way down the hall to where she'd left her phone and wet garments to dry; her phone would tell the time. It was... too early for anybody in their right mind to be awake, not that she hadn't already known that. Right on time to catch the sunrise, though.

That was how the morning found her: on the balcony that would forever be hers and Richard's, watching as flushed light overtook the city skyline. It was glorious; she really should have woken him up.