"You work on a more intimate scale than I do," she replied, finding the understanding between her skillset and his easily enough now that she had been given a personal tour of at least what it was like to touch, to step, to shift within the boundaries of a dreamscape. "I choose my targets because they're usually unfamiliar enough that their suspicions aren't likely to be raised as long as I color with the lines of what they know of the other person." The tabletop beneath her hand snagged her attention, her fingers slipping over its surface under the watchfulness of dark brown eyes. How exact the sensation was. How perfectly ridged it felt beneath the trip of her fingertips as she found a small imperfection in the design before her. She raised her eyes to him again and leaned back in her seat, "Otherwise I need a little more...research."

In exchange for his slipping back into the shape that belonged to only himself, Mystique raised a hand to brush back her dark hair and, even as she brushed the strands over her shoulder, allowed the shape and color to melt into herself. Herself as she truly was, all rich blue skin and red hair, watching him from behind yellow eyes she had shown him only once. "There's none of the physical sensation here. Not really." She held up her hand, allowing it to flutter in transformation to turn just her fingers to the more human shade belonging to the blonde body she wore so often. A tip of her head and she allowed the color to flutter away again. "It could be that your mind adjusts for the new body you put on here, but out there in the world I feel my bones moving into place, my muscles bunch and move into whichever physique I've chosen."