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:origin()/pre00/83c0/th/pre/f/2019/126/d/4/bbw_vore_166_by_kass_iss-dd6ctg4.jpg)
As she let the morning commuters drift forward down concourse toward the escalators and adjacent train platforms, Kitty slipped into an alcove and phased upward. Her ghostlike frame floated through layers of steel and concrete into the bowels of Madison Square Garden, a network of service tunnels and infrastructure that kept the entertainment megalith alive. At this early hour, she anticipated she might stumble upon some maintenance workers, perhaps a security guard or two, but little resistance to her investigation.
Finding nothing of note along this corridor, she slipped between racks of metal barricades and behind empty equipment cabinets intended for the lights and speakers currently suspended above the Garden’s main court. Little more than a shadow, no one would notice Kitty as she performed her sweep of this floor and the one above. She ran her fingers through her shaggy, burnette bob and then put them on her hips, looking back and forth. It was the unsettling quiet of cliches.
Jubilee hadn’t checked in this week. It was hard enough remembering that Jubilee was no longer the spunky newcomer and rather a competent leader in her own right. It was that much more difficult since they were dealing with a new psychic threat, one their sources had linked to Mastermind, the mutant mesmerist largely responsible for triggering Jean’s acceptance of the Phoenix force and . . . she rubbed the goosebumps on her arms.
Kitty long thought the team underestimated Mastermind. Maybe that was because she was just a kid when she first learned about him and he was something of a boogeyman for her -- Jean’s death still casting a pall over the whole team when Kitty first came to live in the mansion. He had tricked the best of them -- the Professor’s first, most extraordinary student -- and if Jean could be toyed with that easily, what chance did she, Kitty, have against any of their psychic adversaries?
Moving into the more populated areas of the building -- the concession stands being restocked, the team offices shivering to life -- Kitty minded the defenses she’d learned from Wolverine and the training she’d done with Rachel. Both knew how to hunt and how to avoid being hunted. To turn the predator into the prey and the prey into the princess . . . no . . that . . that wasn’t right.
The prey into the pie plate . . . no the . . . the pigtails. . .
Kitty felt the concrete wall behind her, cold and hard. She shouldn’t be able to feel anything though. She’s, like, phased and stuff. She bit her finger and furrowed her brow. She doesn’t need to worry. Nothing bad will happen to her. Not like when Meggan and Madelyne were totes crazy and she had on those silly army pants and that that suit of armor and that tail and that goooooorgeous yellow dress and that . . .oh . . . that . . .uniform. With the red skirt and that white sweater and it was silly cuz Brian was sooooo scary but . . .
She slammed her head against the wall and clenched her eyes and jaw shut. Someone had gotten inside and she would get them out -- now. She just needed a minute to work through the routine. To cycle through the steps uninterrupted. To keep her consciousness isolated -- close the only crack between her and whomever that was trying to pry open and exploit one of her weaker moments. Kitty just needed time.
“Ma’am, are you okay?” asked a pimply face soft drink vendor, balancing cases of soda on his hand truck. “Do you need help?”
Kitty turned to him, eyes wide, perspiration on her brow. Dammit. She’d been seen. She was now in another’s consciousness. Another instance of her in a mind’s eye. Another opening. Another stream. She had to close it before --
“There you are! What are you doing out here?” Sparks seem to jump from the brunette cheerleader’s fingertips as she bubbled past the vendor and extended Kitty a hand. Kitty turned toward the wall, an effort to phase that met with firm resistance -- the wall itself and the knot forming within her head. She squeezed her eyes shut around that knot . . . or . . . well . .
Not so much a knot . . . but a bow . . pert . . . taut . .
Shiny and sparkly . . . just like those fingertips . . she could look again . . just a moment . . to see how that sparkle . . like glitter . . giggle . . glitter is giggle magic . . one can’t help smiling in the glitter . . and cheerleaders . . .flamin’ cheerleaders . . they are always smiling . . like . . .always . . totally always . . .
Kitty felt those sparkle shimmer glitter fingers interlace with hers, grip her tight. Tight is safe. Tight is good formation. Good formation is everything. In your place. Let’s get in formation. Giggle. That seems so funny to her right now. Not funny laughter but funny . . the . . the other kind . . the iron . . ironic .. . ironing . . ironing . . oh .. would she need to press her uniform? The blue and yellow . . no . . the red . . and white ?
“Come on, silly! Let’s get you changed!” Jubilation Lee tugged the hand of Kitty Pryde and the latter’s eyes swung on and she felt her frame guide across the floor. “See! You are lighter than air! You’ll do great on tonight!”
Kitty was unconvinced. “Promise?”
“Of course! Especially when we get your extensions in! Rah rah shish boom --”
“Bah!” And Kitty felt the first giggle slip out as the rest of her slipped away, not to return until far later in the evening as the teams hit the court and Ju-Ju and Kit-Kat came bouncing out with pom poms in hand, rustling, rustling, rusling into sparkly oblivion.