7939/Oh Look, It's You Again

Oh Look, It's You Again
Date of Scene:	18 June 2019
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	It's a tete-a-tete on a rooftop between a Thunderer, a Trickster, and a Cat which ends in a wager involving not only gemstones, but Mario Kart.
Cast of Characters:	Black Cat, Thor, Loki
Tinyplot:	Weather Spheres

---

Black Cat has posed:
Evening has fallen on the city in a blanketing of sweetly cool air that bodes the next day to dawn brightly. For now, the clear sky shivers with the rising heat of the day and makes the stars shiver at their heights in the expanse of darkness. This is the kind of night that the normal folk might spend with their screen doors open and the TV on while the sounds of the city filter in. It's too busy for a proper heist -- too many people on the street -- so Felicia's out for a swing.

Not a walk, a swing, via the long wires projected from the wrists of her black cat-suit. Her platinum-blonde hair banners behind her as she rises up from the bottom arc of a swing and daringly arrows between cars as she goes, grinning like a maniac. Adrenaline seeker, right here. At the end of the grappling line's extension, it snaps and she's released into the air between buildings to swan through it for a couple dozen feet. With arms outstretched, she appears to be enjoying the pseudo-flying.

She's not hard to spot, not with the daredevil dip and rise of swinging arcs, and especially with her hair loose. It's a bright flash. Nothing's given her cause for distraction on her travels...yet.

Thor has posed:
    It is a pleasant night in New York City. A cool night, but fair. With as clear skies as one can muster in such a densely populated place. However, The God of Thunder? He yearns. He's restless. He feels burdened by his role, by his duty, and by the stifling halls of New Asgard and The Avengers Mansion alike. And so, over New York City, the Thunderer takes flight.

    It isn't hard to miss him, against the backdrop of the sky. The gleam of his silver warhammer, flashing with the reflections of orange street lights. The bright red cape, billowing behind him like a crimson cloud. The glisten of his scaled armor. The polished sheen of his mirrored, winged helm. No. Thor Odinson is an impossible figure to miss.

    But then, so is Felicia, isn't she? At least when she's not trying to actively not be seen. Right now, the cat burglar seems to be anything but low key. His Godly eyes... or well... his Godly eye and cybernetic other... cast a copper and blue stare at the flash of white, as it dives between two buildings, carried along on a tether of steel. With a mighty swing, Thor's direction shifts, Mjolnir carrying him like a rocket propelled grenade towards that figure and blazing past her overhead.

    Only then, does he come to a halt, held aloft by the simple act of rotating his wrist to send the warhammer spinning like the rotor of a helicopter.

Black Cat has posed:
Humming to herself as she reaches the next arc of her swing (the song is "Sweet Dreams" by the Eurythmics, as a matter of fact), Felicia's senses twig to the nearby disruption of air. The sudden appearance of the Avenger in front of her airspace -- oh my god, he can't be anyone EXCEPT for Thor by that get-up -- has her adjusting her course on the fly with a jerk of her legs and hips. Instead of smacking into him like a bird on a windowpane, she flips past him in a blur of silvery hair and black leather body-suit. The next grappling line leads her to land on a nearby rooftop in the shadow of a low and squat water tower. She skids to a graceful slide, one leg oustretched, before she rises to her feet. Her motions are slow, deliberate, as slinkity as her nom-de-guerre might suggest, and she stands there for a second, eyeing Thor as he hovers in the air.

Then, she sets her weight contrapposto and rests a gloved hand on one hip while pointing at him with the other. "Nobody here's told you about right of way in the air, have they?" That same finger wags back and forth, tsk-tsk, even as she slowly grins at the Asgardian.

Thor has posed:
    Thor watches the Black Cat as she passes by him, but his placement in the air does not move, save for the slight spin that he requires to keep his eyes on the prize as she soars past, and zips her way up to the nearest rooftop.

    Oh. He likes the way she moves.

    When she begins to address him, Odinson hoists the magical Uru warhammer high, which sends him skyrocketing upwards, far over the Cat's head, before an equal downward swing sends him plummeting down to the roof. His own landing is a thing of power. It booms when his booted feet hit the roof, his legs spread just past shoulder width apart, and Mjolnir clutched downward, poised just above the ground. It's a decent hero landing, if not a traditional, one-kneed one.

    "Ha! One could argue that the right of way goes to the mighty," Thor retorts, as he rights his posture to a casual stance, his head tilting to one side while he lifts that legendary hammer to rest against his shoulder, idly tapping it up and down. His lips curl into a lopsided smile, barely flirting with the edges and creating the faintest dimples seen under the coarse, thick beard that lines his jaw. His voice gruff, deep and booming, but jovial, nonetheless, he speaks. "You possess an interesting way about you. But that costume..."

    He gestures with one circling finger pointed at her.

    "It looks like you may yet be up to no good. Are you one of the Man of Spider's villains? That's... kind of the vibe I am getting."

Black Cat has posed:
Felicia rolls a foot back a step at his landing, wincing at the sound and fury of it. It is loud in her sharp ears. She remembers well enough how bombastic he was, though it wasn't nearly to this register in the small restaurant last they met, with she in her civilian clothing and he in the same. Quietly, in her heart, the cat-burglar hopes that her domino mask outlining her jade-green eyes is enough to afford her anonymity. Tangling with Avengers is risky business...even if she does love how the adrenaline makes her fingers and toes tingle.

"Little old me?" Felicia lifts a hand to press at her chest, beneath the divot of her collarbone, her expression affecting innocence. "Villian's a strong word to choose. I've got no beef with the friendly neighborhood Spiderman." There's a subtle tilt of edged tease to the appellation. "You malign a woman when you assume that the color black means nothing but trouble." Another click of her tongue: tsk.

Thor has posed:
    When she doth protest too much, Thor only rears back his head, casting a dubious stare of his mismatched eyes upon her. His lips quirk off to one side, questioning, but he slowly gives a few barely perceptible nods of his head.

    "Ha! I like you," He comments at last, that single burst of laughter almost a crack of thunder on its own. Mjolnir is idly lifted off of his shoulder, and left to dangle from the leather thong attached to the pommel, around a wrist as thick as a branch of a yew tree. "Nay, it is not the color black that the God of Thunder finds to be suspect! Verily, it be the entire motif."

    His steps have steadily drawn him closer, and as he makes that last proclamation, he leans forward conspiratorially, so that his face hovers just before her own, and his dual toned eyes stare directly into her own. "That whole cat look. It appears his villains prefer to go with animal themes. I do not know why. It is a thing."

    Leaning back, Thor looks her up and down, but again, he seems to be appraising her, sizing her up. As he does so, his scowl settles in, his smile turning into a frown. His brow slowly retreating downward, to cast stormy shadows in the hollows of his eyes.

    "You appear familiar to mine eyes. Have you the occasion to have met the Mighty Thor before?"

Black Cat has posed:
"I don't have a cat fetish, if that's what you're asking," the thief snarks back lightly at Thor as he leans in. Felicia stands her ground and simply raises one impeccable-shaped eyebrow at him, even lifting her chin a touch in defensive confidence in herself. Up close, she smells of a light perfume in touches of caramel and vanilla.

Felicia watches his expression darken and the other eyebrow now lifts in what must be a charmingly sardonic look with her pursed red lips. She folds her arms beneath her chest and replies airily,

"A lady never tells -- and you're wrong, about the animal motif. Pretty sure you and yours have a...oh, his name is..." She snappoints at him when it comes to her a second later, and her gloves can be seen to contain the points of nails on them, subtle and not extended just yet. "The Black Panther." Her eyes glitter at him from behind their dark lashes and kohl'd lining. Touche.

Thor has posed:
    Her antics notwithstanding, Thor lifts the meaty hand that is not tethered to Mjolnir, to comb his broad fingers through his beard. His nostrils flare, as he still feels that sweet scent lingering within them, tickling his senses. Finding her peering at him with that look, Thor takes a step back.

    But then she gets at it. She mentions King T'Challa, and Thor's face instantly lights up. He snaps his fingers and nods his head. "Aye. So that's it, then? You are fan of the Black Panther of the Avengers? That does make sense! While Thor Odinson's tastes run towards the fair and the feminine, even he must admit that the Panther is a proud, strong, and noble man that is very handsome for those who prefer as such!"

    He gives a chuff, casting a cocksure grin her way, and lifting his chin to taunt, "And yet you deny having a fetish for cats."

Black Cat has posed:
Felicia blinks at his tease and then squints, curling a wry little grin.

"I still don't have a cat fetish, //your highness// -- " and she dips a mocking curtsey, pinching at invisible skirting between fingers with her pinkies uplifted; " -- I was pointing out a flaw in your logic." Rising up straight again, she then swans past him without a hint of fear. Her swaying walk takes her to the edge of the roof with its low-rise retaining wall and she puts a foot up on it, her hands resting again on her hips now.

"So, Mister Odinson." Felicia casts a look over her shoulder. It puts her face in profile against the backdrop of the night-lit city. "You out for a flight too? Got bored? I never figured you'd rubbing elbows with someone like little old me." She shoots him another charming smile.

Thor has posed:
    "Logic," Thor retorts, a hint of playful derision laced within the deep, rumbling baritone of his voice. "The people of Midgard place too much faith in things like logic. Live in a world of myths, monsters, and heroes, and still cling to things like logic! They always say things like "Knowledge is power!" but it's not. Knowledge is not power! This is power."

    Thor lifts one of his impossibly thickly muscled arms, flexing a bicep that strains and shifts the pearlescent metallic scale armor considerably. "The brain is a muscle, and this is a muscle. I am covered in muscle, therefore I am covered in brains, and thusly, the Mighty Thor has more brains than anyone."

    So that's his view on Logic. Apparently.

    As the Black Cat walks to the ledge, the God of Thunder's dual tone eyes follow her movements. For they are enticing. He cannot deny such. He finds his head leaning to one side as he observes, and as she turns her face to look back at him with that alluring smile, his eyebrows hike up with a look that suggests he was not staring at all, his arms folding behind his back.

    "Hm? ...Oh. Aye, verily! I found myself listless on this eve. The sky compelled me to take flight, free of the restrictive constrains of stuffy old manors and..."

    He sucks in a deep breath, righting his posture as his proud chest expands under the black leather of his armor. He holds it for a moment, before releasing a sigh.

    "Well, I shall not bore you with such. Still, I find you familiar yet. I cannot seem to place it, that comely visage, but I know that I have seen it before."

Black Cat has posed:
Felicia allows that smile to remain on her lips as she turns in place to better look at the Asgardian. It means bringing down her boot a la Captain Morgan from the roof's low wall and she takes up that comfortable hips-akilter stance again. One arm folds across her ribs while the other brings up a finger to taptap in light mockery of confusion at her chin.

"It's funny, I feel like I might have met you before too. You probably didn't have that helmet on though, with the, uh...wings," and she twiddles a finger alongside the fall of her platinum-blonde hair to indicate the feathery accents on his helm. "Ah, right," and she snaps her fingers in their gloves. "You're on a lot of merchandise around the city. I'm sure I've seen you there." She allows herself a rill of chuckling at her own humor and then sighs, tilting her head slightly as she looks at Thor still.

"What was that though? Comely visage? Why, you're too kind, your highness, you and all of your..." Her jade-green eyes drag from his face to his toes and back. "Brains."

Thor has posed:
    "Now you make mockery of me," Thor remarks, though the smile remains steadfast on his lips, and the mirthful glimmer still twinkles in mismatched eyes of blue and copper. Reaching up with the meaty bear paw that he calls a hand, the one not loosely clutching the legendary warhammer that is his constant companion, Thor lifts the winged helm from his head. Holding it aloft, that helmet actually transmutes itself into a brilliant display of electrical showers, arcs of lightning trailing up, far into the night time sky. Relived of the helmet, he instinctively runs his hand through those short cropped, dark blonde locks, so that they're no longer flattened from the helm, and instead are sufficiently mussed to a series of thick, forward facing spikes. "Everyone knows the God of Thunder. Avenger. King of New Asgard. I mean, not to tooty mine own horn, but celebrity is something I have found myself forced to come to terms with."

    His booted feet carry him closer to the black-clad femme fatale, allowing Mjolnir to dangle from his wrist as he lifts either hand to his side. A gesture meant to convey that he hides nothing. His chuckle escapes him as a sound not unlike the distant roll of thunder, and as she gives him that obvious once over, his posture straightens. Shoulders square and back, his chest on display. He certainly fits the heroic archetype. "Tis hardly a kindness when one speaks naught but truth. I flirt not with you. For comely you may be, I am not yet convinced that you are not that lady thief from Gotham."

Black Cat has posed:
"From Gotham," the Cat repeats with a note of disbelief. She then laughs again before putting gloved fingertips to her mouth and looking up at the night sky as if to pray for composure.

"Oh no, your highness, you've got your cats aaaaaallll mixed up. You're thinking Catwoman," explains Felicia. She thumbs over her shoulder towards Gotham in particular. "I don't know what color her hair is, but her suit doesn't have the same highlights as mine. I think the fur trim is a nice touch personally." She drags the recurved nails of her gloves through the pale floss lining each side of the deep vee of her suit, from collarbone to mid-rib.

"Even if we might run into one another, she also has a different set of interests than I do." A little gasp and Felicia looks up at Thor with a bit of a pout to her plush red lips.

"Oops." But she doesn't sound guilty in the least.

Thor has posed:
    The way that Thor's chin remains just slightly tucked, so that he's watching her through hooded eyes, with a lingering specter of a smile flirting at the edges of his lips might suggest that the Lightning-Bringer may be, in fact, more clever than he lets on. His hand releases the leather thong that tethers Mjolnir to his wrist, allowing it to fall to the rooftop where it makes a strange keening sound before it touches down with a sound like two magnets pulled together. A sort of clack of finality, as if the thing may never move again.

    "So I see," He says, as he folds his arms across the broad expanse of his breast, letting his chin rise so that he's just barely peering down the length of his nose at his unique conversational companion for this evening. "Catwoman is a name well known. Infamous to some. Heroic to others. And yet, I still know not the moniker with which you would call yourself, little kitten. But..."

    He makes that uncomfortable wincing smile face, as if he just sucked on a lemon, while peering at her through slivers of eyes, laced with tangled lashes. With his arms still folded, his hand slips from the crook of his elbow to twirl a finger in her general direction. "It is a bit... derivative, is it not? Does this not make you a..."

    He cannot suppress a chortle.

    "Copy. Cat?"

Black Cat has posed:
Felicia's eyes narrow at the broad-shouldered man, sensing that he might be expecting to have a funning at her by his expression. She glances down at the solid, silvery presence of Mjolnir and back at him, silently weighing options. When he makes his pun, she rolls her deeply-green eyes at him - yes, at a member of the royal Asgardian family.

"You are the second hero to make that pun this month," she deadpans back at him, now folding her arms and affecting a true pout. "And don't call me kitten. It's Black Cat. You probably don't know of me and that's fine by me. I don't need the Avengers nosing into my business anyways."

She lifts her pert nose in a derisive sniff in his direction.

Thor has posed:
    Thor's Royal status seems to have very, very little sway in the manner with which he comports himself while dealing with others. While one might expect a King to become offended by an eyeroll, for the insult to his inherent "nobility", this is not the case with Thor. Far from it. He simply takes it as a gesture of the game being played, and responds accordingly, his smile practically beaming.

    At least, at first.

    "Black Cat," He repeats, his smile fading as he notes that pout. The lift of her nose. "Nay, Lady Cat, you need not worry about Avengers. Unless you have some sort of cosmic death cube that you intend to unravel the universe with, at least. Thieves and rogues are..."

    He struggles for a moment. "Not their jam."

    He extends a hand, however, his palm open and facing towards her, as he speaks, "Nor did I mean offense by my words. It was foolish of me to call you kitten, and assume that you would understand that I jest. You see, I thought we had this back and forth thing... being slightly snarky, but humorous, and all in good fun, a "haha you really insulted me" kind of thing."

    He gestures back and forth between himself and her as he rambles, his pitch ticking up into caricature levels as he makes the quote. And then, his smile fades entirely, and he slumps his shoulders. "So. My apologies."

Black Cat has posed:
As the man rambles on, the blonde across from him can be seen to tilt her head again in the opposite direction. A lock of her hair slips forwards from its semi-draping at her shoulder as she does this. Her pout slowly morphs into confusion and even a smidgeon of dubious concern that drows her eyebrows together. By the time his shoulders slump, her lips have formed a rounded moue in silence.

"Um...well...I //don't// have any sort of...cosmic death cube, so you guys don't have to worry about that -- and...um...I'm glad to hear that you guys don't really care about me. I can get a lot more done now, knowing that." Felicia bites at the corner of her bottom lip, looking between his mismatched eyes. "...and thanks for the apology, I guess...? I mean, I wasn't really...that mad." A beat and she sighs, giving him a rueful curl of a smile. "Man, making you sad is like kicking a puppy."

Thor has posed:
    "I get that a lot from my brother," Thor remarks in a low, almost pensive tone of voice when she equates him to a kicked puppy. His brows brood over his eyes, casting them in deep shadows, and his lips pull taut at the corners into a small frown. "It doesn't seem to dissuade him much, however. I am not certain if that speak more ill of me, or of him."

    Lifting his stare back to Felicia, the Thunderer shrugs it off, and draws in a deep breath, exhaling as a quick, huffing sigh from his nostrils. Looking her over, from head to toe, he lifts a finger to tap on his beard laden chin, and gives a faint upnod. "One would do well to take care not to offend a lady. That is all. However... I should be certain to ensure that you are not in possession of a cosmic cube, or rampant AI, or some other world-ending item of great and terrible power. And give a strong word of warning that, while the Avengers need not concern themselves with burglars, you have gained the notice of at least one among their number. One that can hear a scream from across the other side of Midgard."

    There's that gleam in his eye again. Kicked puppy or no, it seems that he bounces back quickly.

Loki has posed:
"Speaking ill of me, behind my back?" Loki's smooth lilt questions, out of what seems to be, essentially, nowhere. The god of tricks isn't visible anywhere nearby, at least at first: he does relish being difficult.

"I'd hate for you to appear a gossip, dear brother, and thought I'd give you the opportunity to say 'compliments' about me to my face, instead," Loki says, in his slippery and charming way.

Loki appears, with a fluttered twist of the air, just to Thor's left, hands in his pockets, at ease. Loki is not dressed to be a king or avenger of anywhere, more like he'd fit in with a crowd of sleekly dressed villains or modern vampires. His suit is expensively tailored, a near-black that has a depth of green in the way light falls across the edge of shoulder and lapel. The shirt under it is open-collared, a dark silver-gray, hair slicked back and pony tailed. He could hardly look less like Thor, though that they are both otherwordly: that they have in common.

Black Cat has posed:
The cat-burglar can't help the slow curl of the corners of her lips once more. She tucks her chin rather demurely at the warning and lifts one eyebrow followed by the other.

"Well, golly, your highness, I guess I'll be very sure not to scream the next time I see a spider in my room," Felicia replies tartly to Thor. "But I told you before, I don't have a cosmic cube of doom or death //or// despair." She flicks out one finger. "Or any world-ending item of great or terrible power." She flicks out a second finger. "Or anything like artificial intelligence. Besides, nothing about this is artific -- "

Her gesturing at her own body pauses as she hears the dismebodied voice. Jade-green eyes go wide as she looks around, taking a cautionary step back to boot. When Loki appears, she outright stares.

"...holy crap," she breathes, staring at the Trickster now, her hands tucked up near to her chest. "Wow. Um. That's...that's a trick, how...?" A finger lifted curls away again uncertainly. "Um...do you know Doctor Strange? Because he does stuff like that all of the time," she comments to Loki.

Thor has posed:
    "Aaaah," Thor says, his eyes lifting up to one side, as his smile returns, though he lifts a finger, waving it about and giving a faint shake of his head, in response to that echoing voice from the ether. "Speak not of the Devil, for he shall appear. Loki! Brother!"

    No sooner than Loki manifests at his side, the Thunderer is turning his attention from Black Cat to the dark haired Asgardian God of Mischief. He reaches up, giving his sibling a strong, loud clap on the shoulder, as he practically beams at him. "You know I would nay speak ill of you, save for in jest. As it turns out, you are my favorite sibling."

    He turns his attention back to Felicia, who is clearly stunned by this rather subtle appearance for Loki. Thor is, as it turns out, the actual black sheep of the family. He counts among his siblings, two hardcore bitchy drama club goths, while he's just the loveable jock middle child. He chuffs at her reaction, and then flits his gaze between the pair of them.

    "Lady Black Cat, meet my brother, Loki. God of Chaos, Trickery, and Mischief. He is my dearest friend and brother, and my closest advisor. There is naught a more clever being in all the Nine Realms. Brother, this is the Black Cat. Do not tell her she is derivative, for she takes offense at that."

    Clearly.

    As the conversation drifts to Strange, and the possibilities therein, Thor is content to sit back, in silence, and let the pair make their introductions as they will.

Loki has posed:
Thor's hand is going to immediately give away Loki's current illusory status. Meaning, it impacts Loki, and proves that he ISN'T an illusion, this time. Loki doesn't quite stumble under the slam, but does take the impact with a bracing tension of body, to be sure he does weather it well, and his pride stays intact! "Favorite, yes, I recall," Loki says, standing straight once the danger of being patted more has passed.

"Prince Loki," Loki clarifies for Black Cat, to give her the gist of how she gets to address him. "I hardly would do that; you've done well enough on your own," Loki teases Thor about the status of Black Cat's derivative name.

Loki gives Black Cat a vague look, a turn of his dark eyes towards her. He has an imperious look to him, a semi-tolerant quality of the little human asking him questions. Loki tends to own far more of a traditional 'god' vibe - at least when he's acting like a version of himself. "Yes, all magic users know each other," Loki says, sarcastic. He smirks a little more, lips pulling to one side. "In this case, I /am/ aware of your young human sorcerer," continues Loki self-importantly. Compared to the gods, of course Strange is 'young'. "He is required to travel quickly to adequately protect this world, so I'm so very glad to hear he makes it a priority."

"Does she need to be equipped with an item of world-ending power?" Loki questions of Thor, in a way that can easily go a variety of ways. Loki's in a mercurial mood. "I may have a spare."

Black Cat has posed:
As Thor goes about thumping companionably and introducing the sudden arrival, Felicia can be seen to become a little more still and pensive. She doesn't lose the twinkle in her kohl-lined eyes -- rather, it hardens a touch. The black-haired man may be a deity of mischief as well as a source of wisdom and apparently the brother to Thor Odinson, but the Cat knows Loki as another figure entirely.

One whose name was accompanied with handfuls of uncertain warning from more than a single source.

She smiles despite her concern, little dimples showing at the corners of her red lips. "Doctor Strange is very good at his job, I agree, your highness." Thor gets a lingering glance and then Loki gets a frown. "I wouldn't have guessed you were brothers -- but hey, if a brother of Thor wants to give me an item with that much power as a gift? I'll take it, as long as it's shiny."

And now Loki gets a curl of a smile, inviting trouble as a fellow mischief-maker, because frankly? The Cat just can't help but test to see just how unsettling the God of Chaos can be.

Thor has posed:
    "Nay, brother!" Thor bellows forth, pointing a finger at Loki as if to ward him off from doing such a thing as offering up some object of mystical and cosmic significance and/or dread. "We do not give the Midgardians such weapons. They are proven to be capable of their own ingenuity when it comes to such matters. I spend enough of my time trying to stop them from destroying themselves and this Realm as it stands."

    Oblivious to any subtle shifts in expression or mood within the beguiling eyes of the Black Cat, the Odinson practically beams as she makes mention of the physical differences that would make them seem from different worlds, altogether, rather than brothers. "Our father was long in the tooth, and was something of a legendary lover in his time. Many were born to Odin, but not many share the same mother. Loki here, I'm afraid, was burdened with looks and a frightful cleverness, over my own gifts of strength and power. You would traverse all the Nine Realms and One Other without finding another of my brother's like."

    Folding his massive arms across his chest, his hands gripping each opposing bicep, Thor's rugged countenance is alight, a glimmer of something clever within those mismatched eyes of blue and copper. He looks between his brother and the burglar, and makes mention, idly, of course, "And he's single, last I checked."

Loki has posed:
Loki's dark eyes flex over Felicia's expression and face, with a penetrating quality. Whether he sees everything or not, there's a sense projected that he might be able to read thoughts, or pick up the edges of things, just in how rapt that scrutiny is. "Shiny? Hm." There's a twinkle of dangerous, and shiny, spark through Loki's eyes.

And then there's Thor. Being Thor. Loki's gaze drifts into a long-suffering, injured-pride side-eye towards Thor. Such extreme side-eye was just displayed: Loki is also the god of cutting sideways looks, among other titles, was just proven.

Still, there's no anger shown, more an effort of extreme tolerance. "Yes, my burdens are truly great," Loki answers serenely. "I /have/ traversed those realms. It seems a true thing that I lack equal, very sadly. Which does mean I will continue to enjoy my 'freedom' -- to spend all of my time serving Asgard."

Loki returns Thor's attempt at clever grin with a sleek and slippery answer: "For the kingdom's sake, we focus on /your/ love life, dear brother, as a priority," Loki says selflessly.

Black Cat has posed:
Felicia's grin does deepen in a equally sharp manner at the Trickster's thoughtful response, almost as if she were to ready herself for a fencing match -- and yes, on the fringes of her thoughts, it might trickle to him that 'shiny' is her modus operandi, almost magpie-like in tendency.

Thor does put a damper on things with his completely logical and responsible reaction. The Cat does allow herself a slow and silent sigh, her chest rising and falling markedly, as she looks between the two Asgardians. Her eyebrows do lift at Thor's comment and she does bite the corner of her plush lower lip at Loki's retort.

"It does sound like a burden for you two, being single. You don't think there's anything little old me can do to help either of you...? You gotta understand though, gentlemen: you couldn't keep up with me," the thief demures with a bright and challenging grin that lights up her jade-green eyes. "I'm happy to assist regardless, especially if shiny things are involved."

Thor has posed:
    "Ha! My love life? Come now, brother, we both know that my romantic endeavors are a laughable jest, if not an outright travesty. My last betrothed would have seen my head on a pike! We should nary dwell upon such things. I have resigned myself to cast aside such ambitions," The Thunderer proclaims, boisterous as ever, though one who is astute might just see a hint of weariness at the crinkled corners of his eyes, as if the smile no longer reaches them. Indeed, even his smile diminishes, becoming something of a close lipped look that soon has his mighty chest heaving with a sigh that pushes those closed lips out.

    When Felicia makes her offer, the Odinson turns his attention back on to her, his prominent brows hiking up considerably. He looks more amused than anything, though once the challenge is given, his expression shifts almost immediately. Almost eager. "Ha! Do you hear this, brother? She thinks that the sons of Odin, the champions of Asgard, Gods of Thunder and Chaos, could not yet keep up with her!"

    Wait.

    His head tilts to one side, his brow coming crashing down into a brooding scowl of confusion. Dual colored eyes flutter dark lashes rapidly and his lips under his russet beard form a tiny "O" shape. "Wait. What are we talking about keeping up with, now? Just to be certain."

Loki has posed:
If Thor weren't present, Loki would handle much of this very differently. As it is, his behavior is controlled and even pleasant. More so with Thor's extreme current positive attitude aimed his way. The fangs haven't been shown, those fangs that Loki is more than capable of doing when a human starts to suggest they're useful to him. He's virtually generous, at the moment.

"I do hear. There are lots of human matters I have no interest in 'keeping up' in, so /alas/, a loss. Very sad," Loki says smoothly, attention sliding to one of his sleeves, to pick an imaginary bit of lint off of some fabric near an elbow. A challenge with a human on a random rooftop is beneath Loki.

"I may be willing to judge a contest between you, should it be worthy of the King of Asgard," Loki adds. His gaze flicks to Felicia, though, and there was a funny little wink in it. It's the wink of a villain just before he lowers someone into boiling water, though: there wasn't a flirt in it.

Black Cat has posed:
Like as not, Loki won't miss the openly considering look that the platnium-blonde gives to his brother. It's not precisely predatory, but it showcases interest not dimmed an iota even with the demurring by the Thunderer. Hmm. One can almost see the thoughtful swish of a nonexistant tail.

Rather than explain her thoughts on matters, the Cat allows the dark-haired brother his own demurring with a flick of her eyes to him that lingers. She laughs to herself under her breath and shifts her weight to her other hip, remaining in her comfortable contrapposto stance.

"I know a 'no' when I hear it, your highness, you don't need to get all magnanimous with me. You've got bigger problems to worry about anyways." The way her gaze flickers between both Asgardians doesn't assign the light warning to just one of them.

Thor has posed:
    "Baaaah," Thor articulates the sound, deep and rumbling, passing a glance in the direction of his beloved brother. He looks as though he might give another one of those hard claps to the Mischief Maker's shoulder, though he refrains. It does seem as though Thor is trying to be more mindful of his ways. There's some progress. "You should let yourself have a bit of fun, brother. It would do you most good. Besides, like it or nay, Midgard is our home now. For better or ill, we exist among the humans, and should learn to be neighbors."

    A pause.

    "For the sake of the Kingdom. Of course."

    Looking back then, to Black Cat, Thor ticks up his chin, before giving a curt and earnest nod. "Aye, alright. So tell us, then, Lady Black Cat. Though my brother be a bit of a stick in the mud, the God of Thunder does not back down from a challenge lightly. As dear Loki has deigned to act as Judicator for this challenge, verily shall the Lightning Bringer desire to hear from your own lips the nature of it. What do you propose as the rules of engagement?"

Loki has posed:
Loki looks like he got volunteered to watch paint dry. He wears the same expression when declared that they are going to do 'get help'. "For the sake of the kingdom, an opportunity to be... distracted from 'problems'," Loki echoes quietly. He may have caught some subtext from the Cat: hard to say, Loki's being elusive. "May I suggest yet another drinking challenge? Those seem to be a favorite."

Loki gives Thor another significantly dismayed side-eye, and as soon as Thor looks eagerly back to Felicia, Loki starts to turn transparent. It's a very literal fade-out, like he could just drift into the background and not have to deal with any of it anymore.

Black Cat has posed:
A white-gloved hand appears before her chest and waggles a chastising finger. Felicia even clicks her tongue at Loki, looking away from him and towards Thor wearing another winning smile. She's figured out who the stick-in-the-mud is here.

"I'm not a cheap date to start with, so not drinking. Nope," and she pops the consonant in the word. Her lips purl as if she simply can't help but fight to smile harder. "I'll bet something //shiny// that you, Thor Odinson, can't beat me, the infamous Black Cat..."

She pauses to roll her shoulders in self-approval, an unspoken purr.

"...at Mario Karts."

She does however break in charming character at the Cheshire Cat-like beginnings of disappearance from Loki. She outright stares again. "...that's just freaky."

Thor has posed:
    "Nay," Thor retorts to Loki's suggestion, though he does sound a bit dejected about such. His lips quirk to one side in a half formed frown and he gives a single shake of his head. "Mortal ken can not keep up with the drinking might of the Gods. I save such challenges for the likes of Hulks or Hercs. Perhaps I've indulged a Wolverine a time or twenty, as well. It seems an unfitting challenge for the lady."

    But then, Black Cat has laid out her idea. This draws Thor's attention from his disapproving brother, just in time for the God to begin his fade out of reality. Thor's eyes light up once again and he gives a single booming crack of laughter before he exclaims, "Mario Kart?! HA! I Love Mario Kart! Verily, the God of Thunder accepts this challenge! My skill with Waluigi is the stuff of legends! My friend Meek is composing a ballad about it, in fact!"

    He looks over, as if to confirm his boasts with Loki, only to find Loki no longer there. He gives just a bit of a start, but quickly recovers, heaving a large, breathy sigh and giving a roll of his eyes. Looking back to Felicia, Thor looks deadpan, and gives a nod. "Aye. He has been known to do that from time to time."

Black Cat has posed:
Felicia's eyes slide back to Thor and her surprise-rounded lips thin out in apparent disapproval of the vanishing act. "Look, that's just spooky, okay? He could've said goodbye or something instead of pulling a Poltergeist." She shivers a little, the lift and fall of her shoulders then settling out. "I mean, it's cool, but...brr."

She then gives Thor a small smirk even as she takes up a loose wave of her hair and idly twines it around a finger. "I'm a Yoshi kind of girl. I guess we'll see what you bring to the table. So...God of Thunder." A rolling step swans her closer to Thor and she squints pensively. "What 'shiny' are you going to wager? Because you can name almost anything you want. I'll get it to you...one way or another."

Thor has posed:
    "Well," Thor says in response to Felicia's assessment of Loki's spookiness. He tries to think of a way to defend it, but he just opens his mouth and stands there for a moment looking thoughtful, before snapping his mouth shut once more. His door-wide shoulders heave with a shrug, and he nods his head. "I cannot argue it..."

    As the Black Cat saunters forth towards him, the Odinson remains still. He finds virtue in the way she moves, and his eyes track her, even though his face moves naught. The comment about Yoshi only draws forth a silent bob of his head with a huff of air. A teasing scoff.

    "Should you desire a bauble for your effort, fair lady, then the King of Asgard might grant you..."

    What?

    Oh yes. Thor looks upwards as he plunges one of his mighty hands deep into the pocket of his leather pants. His eyes squint and he sticks the tip of his tongue out as he feels around and finally draws forth a strange golden hued disk. It looks almost like a sprocket. Thor flips it like a coin, catching it in his palm before holding it up before her.

    "One of these coins in Asgard is worth a gazillion of your human dollars!"

Black Cat has posed:
"A...gazillion dollars?" Felicia echoes. She visibly tries to compose her face into something more respectful than outright laughing at the numerical figure related, but ends up giggling despite herself from behind her white teeth that dimple her bottom lip again.

"That's a lot of dollars," she agrees, " - but I need something I can exchange for actual currency, your highness. I don't think they recognize your coinage here. What about...a gemstone? Make it a gemstone and we'll be even -- I'll give you one in return?"

She jauntily holds out a white gloved hand for him to shake, smiling fetchingly at him again.

Loki has posed:
Out of nowhere, there's a flutter of magic around Thor's head. The slight, somewhat petite arrival of a tiara of gemstones manifests out of nothing. White gold turns like the arms of elegant trees, to embrace a splattering of a mix of diamonds and rubies set amongst the tiara's branches.

Nothing is free, of course; there will be a favor owed. Naturally. For being so helpful.

Thor has posed:
    "Ah," Thor says, turning his face in a manner that says "Aht aht aht!" and letting his cheerful gaze linger on her comely face. He snatches the coin back, as if she had tried to reach for it herself, before palming it. "You simply made the terms "shiny". The actual value of the coin is of little consequence, is it not? It holds a rather wondrous luster.

    He does, however, place the coin back in his pocket. Instead, he goes fishing again, when the shimmer of magic appears. He doesn't see it, but he does feel that tiara, as the white gold branches of it twist and grow about the crown of his skull. He can feel as each gemstone grows like the bulb of a flower at the end of a vine. His eyes roll upwards, and reaching up, he plucks it from his brow and holds it out in front of him.

    "Verily, I suppose I could offer you this trinket!"

Black Cat has posed:
"I'll be more specific next time," the Cat quips drily back at Thor with a little roll of her eyes. Her hand retracts and she sighs notably again as she watches him rifle through his pants pockets. Maybe he has the keys to a Jaguar in there somewhere?

The appearance of the tiara however, gleaming and crested in diadems of red gems, is a vision even on Thor. Off of Thor's head and offered to her instead? Felicia can be seen to inhale sharply and curl her fingers into the white fur lining the deep vee of her black catsuit. She looks from it to Thor with an effort and nods.

"Oh my, your highness...you do know how to offer a girl nice things," she says with a purr in her voice. "And I know exactly what to wager for a gemstone. Done." This time, she doesn't offer a handshake. "I'll leave a note at the Asgardian Embassy for you about the time and place for our race. Be prepared to lose," she adds with a wink, beginning to step backwards with a feline twitch of her hips.

Thor has posed:
    "Aye," Thor retorts with a faint nod of his head, even if he didn't actually come up with the idea. Still, he gives a faint shrug, his smile seeming hapless, as he clutches the delicate seeming thing within his meaty fist. "I am not a King without generosity, after all. New Asgard is a place of many wonders. You would do well to come visit sometime. I am told by the Department of Tourism in Norway that I should encourage people to come visit."

    As she winks and prepares her retreat, Thor begins to twirl the tiara on one extended finger, giving a firm nod of his head. His other hand opens, and Mjolnir lifts from the rooftop and into his grasp of its own accord.

    "I shall wait with baited breath for news of your terms! Though I do hope you hold no grudge in your heart when I decimate you on the tracks. Fare the well, Black Cat."

    And with one mighty thrust, Mjolnir sends the Thunder God racing heavenward, where even the orange lights of the city spread out below like a thousand miles of fire no longer reflect and shimmer off of his pristine scaled armor.