6370/A Mystical Mark

A Mystical Mark
Date of Scene:	05 February 2019
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Breaking and entering into the Sanctum Sanctorum turns out to be one heck of an audition for the Black Cat. Doctor Strange has a job offer.
Cast of Characters:	Doctor Strange, Black Cat

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Doctor Strange has posed:
    The Village is in the middle of a deep slumber as it tends to be on most Monday nights. The super bowl was yesterday and most people in this part of town simply couldn't be bothered, but they had to deal with people at work who did. So everyone's hung over equally. In the heart of Greenwich is a rather unassuming, mostly unremarkable brownstone that most people couldn't describe to you if they had walked down the street five minutes ago. A house that some rumors have it being part of the occult and satanic worshipers meet in the basements. Other rumors portrey the house as being haunted by a quintuple murder suicide.
    But those in the know, speak even less of it.

    The Sanctum Sanctorum is a rather rudimentary house, with the most basic of protections from theft and burglary, but with a few special additions that aren't visible to the naked eye. This is the house that had given a woman a tug at her heart stings, there was an odd sort of allure to the building, even as the clouds rolled over the black milky night, it called to the white haired theif.

Black Cat has posed:
In the shadows of an awning, one building over, a pair of glinting green eyes narrow consideringly at the brownstone. Her breath puffs silvery in the chill of the evening. Still, she waits, as she has been for the last half hour, to place a finger to the pulse of the neighborhood. Greenwich Village has never been a draw for the Black Cat, given the regulars are more...collegiate nee starving artist than rich old fogies //asking// to be robbed, but...

Rumor has it this blase-looking brownstone has an assortment of rare and unique items in it, worth her effort on the black market and more. Lifting up a hand, the black-suited cat-burglar releases her grappling line with a near-silent 'puft' of sound. It hooks onto the opposite awning of the building and fearlessly, she swings down one floor's worth of altitude to land lightly against the side of the brownstone. The night wind flickers through her hair, pale as moonlight, loose rather than pulled back. A run along the outer wall and over to a window, wherein she hooks the retractable claws of her suit into its wooden frame.

"Blissfully simple," she purrs to herself as she then retracts the grappling line -- zzzzzzzzip, back it goes into its holster on her wrist, hidden in the silvery fur of her suit. Slipping another long nail to jiggle loose the old window lock into opening, she then slides up the window. Blip -- in goes the woman. She immediately freezes in the room she's entered, scanning it. Her eyes catch what little ambient light and twinkle behind the domino mask. "Easy enough," she whispers to herself again as she turns in place to shut the window ever so sloooowly...

Doctor Strange has posed:
    The window was stupidly easy to pick, unlock and open, and it closes with out a squeak. It's well maintained, and cleaned frequently as detailed by the complete lack of dust, so why wouldn't it be more well protected than an ancient lock mechanism?

    The room itself is much larger than Felicia would have guessed based on the design, but it's a huge room with the walls lined with huge shelves and stacks and stacks of books and loose papers sprawled upon an old looking table and a faint light that flickers across the room, the candle sticks on the chandelier have been lit for some time, as the wax is dripping down the sticks, but none rest on the floor or table below.

Black Cat has posed:
The Cat's jade-green eyes roam as she saunters a few more steps into the room. Her hands remain behind her back at first, simultaneously respectful and coy at once. Her low-heeled boots make little sound as she travels, lips pursed thoughtfully.

"Maybe the antiques are in another room..." Her murmur carries not far from her person as she approaches the table with chaotic spread of papers and towers of tomes. Her teeth catch at the corner of her mouth as she smiles in bemusement down at them all. Some writing is English, some of it...Latin? Some of it...some script she doesn't recognize. "Someone's got a book fetish. Hmph." She dares lift one yellowed page with a tweezer-like pinch of her retractable claws and then sets it down again.

Another door catches her attention and it's to this she minces over. Cautiously, she opens it and peers around the corner. The hallway seems to stretch both directions for some distance and she frowns to herself. This place is much larger than it appeared from the outside. Given it appears to open up farther down to her right, she chooses to head down that direction for the more open space that may be beyond it.

Doctor Strange has posed:
    The halls are long, dark and shadowed deeply, the night and the dim lighting of candles makes it that much more ominous for any one not used to the sanctum, and yet, this might be the exact atmosphere Felicia seeks out when she's in the middle of a heist. The hallway stretches for some ways before it spills out into the foyer with golden banisters and hand rails of pure crystal carved and shaped immaculately, inviting no one to touch or even dare use, but it's smooth from countless years and innumerable hands.

    Then to the side, on the second floor land that Felicia finds herself on is what appears to be a museum of artifacts and antiques from times and civilizations long forgotten to mortal men. Cauldrens that the Black Cat could easily hide in, umbrella's that seem to be forever wet. An inverse pyramid of metallic spikes balanced upon a single tip with no discernable reason for them to be even touching much less supporting each other other than, magnets maybe?

    The black and white checkered tile floor seems to stretch further and further into the brownstone and yet, the walls are not where they should be, she is definitely in a different house, at least.

Black Cat has posed:
The wink of candlelight off the various glass cabinets, pristine in their museum-quality glass, is too much for the cat-burglar to ignore. Smiling to herself, she steps from the carpeted flooring and onto the checkboard tiling. Over she saunters to a case containing a beautiful golden buckler, complete with a large cabochon sapphire inset centrally and starburst metallic carving radiating outwards from it.

"And what's your name...?" Felicia asks the item as she stops before the glass case. A little tap-tap of a claw on her bottom lip and then she reaches out with that same claw. Ambient candlelight winks off the ultra-sharp tip of it as she draws a large ovaloid on the glass itself before reaching out with her other hand. Some sticky substance -- or perhaps a patterning on the suit's gloves? -- holds it and keeps it from falling inwards to disturb the buckler. The Cat sets it aside and then reaches in for the beautiful object, all eyes for it.

Doctor Strange has posed:
    The room doesn't shift, no alarms are triggered when the Black Cat touches the glass. No lasers cut at her arms or legs, no gas is released into the air. The security here is, frankly alarming in its lack of security. The house should have been picked clean at this point. Maybe Felicia is starting to get ideas of returning and pilfering even more artifacts.

    The Shield is stored on a single glass box, making it appear to be floating in the air, inviting any thiefs to simply take it, or even reach to the buckler and pluck the valuable stone from within its ancient housing in the middle of the golden shield.

Black Cat has posed:
The cat-burglar does pause out of habit just before her claws make contact with that gorgeous blue sapphire -- even a star-sapphire, breath-taking. She glances around the room and does frown to herself.

"Same time next week," she then laughs, chuckling pridefully to herself. Oh, there will be ransacking unless something startles her off. She digs her claws then behind the gemstone itself, sliding the durable arcs into place. A sharp and practiced twist and...

"Oh, you beauty," she breathes as she palms the stone. It weighs...gosh, enough to be worthwhile and more. Into the suit it goes, tucked away into the safe space beneath the ruff of silvery fur about her collarbones. Felicia then turns on her toes, fingertips resting on her chin. "Oh, and what else...?" The pyramid catches her attention and she walks over to it. "This is clever." A tilt of her head and she reaches out to delicately pick up the top-most metallic spike.

Doctor Strange has posed:
    The metal spikes all are incredibly heavy, as if made of pure tungsten, but as soon as Felicia plucks it from the top of the pyramid, whole thing comes crashing down and the spikes scatter across the stand as if they were multiplying as the hit the ground. Each contact causes them to further copy themselves. The sound is outrageous, it's like the sound of a whole band falling down in the practice room in high school. All the instruments, and stands and chairs and people clapping against the ground and scraping the tile.

Black Cat has posed:
Poor Felicia. She's startled enough to clear the tiled flooring as she jumps backwards and away from the impossibly-replicating metal spikes. With the first metallic spar still clenched in her grip, she then backpedals away quickly -- her head turns almost like a swivel to scan the entire room as her eyes go wide behind her black domino mask.

"No-no-no-no, stupid!!!" she hisses to herself in remonstration even as she's turning to try and dart back out the way she came, spike still in-hand.

Out into the hallway she goes, scarpering as fast as her legs can carry her. This is a fairly impressive speed, though not on par with a super-soldier. The candlelight and odd shadows now feel a bit more onimous with her heart in her throat.

Doctor Strange has posed:
    In the run towards the room she entered in, Felicia might or might not be able to hear over the sound of her own heartbeat, the sound of silence. The impossible mansion within the brownstone is as quiet as ever once the metal spikes stop replicating.

    Maybe there's no one here? How long did she scout this place out, was it simply a passing fancy or did she full on study this place for weeks. It's hard to remember at this moment, but she'll never recall seeing anyone actually enter or exit the doors she may or may not have observed.

    The hallway becons, but it is not friendly this time as she begins to sprint down the hall, Felicia would feel a gut wrenching vice slowly close in on her stomach as the room begins to turn, rotate, she'd feel like she was running on the walls, but she can see that she's on the ground, but a look back would show the hallway itself is twisted with gravity itself keeping her aligned on the carpeted floor of the lengthy hallway.

Black Cat has posed:
"Ohhhhhhh, not gooooood -- not good, not good, notgoodnotgoodnogood nooooo!!!"

Felicia's high-strung whisper might carry as she tries to keep running against the weirdity that is her eyes telling her one thing while her boots are telling her another and her stomach is beginning to roil. She reaches up to touch at her equilibrium-inducing earrings. They're still there and her inner ear is telling her that she might still be on the hallway flooring, but - but - the walls! They're not melting, but they are warping! She's running sideways?!

"I hate magic!!!" Apparently, the Cat's run into mystical trouble before, but not to this degree. Still holding the metal spike, she runs on, frantically eyeing each door she passes by to see if it's the one she left initially. "Where's the room with the books?!" she squeaks.

Doctor Strange has posed:
    Thankfully for the cat she left that door open, and so when she comes across it, it's right there, inviting her like the house did initially. Only she feels like she's on the wall and to even breach the doorway feels like she would be leaping off a building down towards the hard floor below, expect the floor is a wall, with a window she entered the house through. Would the whole of her reality be her falling around the world forever? Is it some trick her mind is being fed by ... something?!

Black Cat has posed:
The Cat slides to a sudden halt at the very edge of the doorframe and pants, staring down at it. "No-no-no, this can't be right!" she whispers, scrunching her eyes shut for a second. She stamps her foot hard once and bites at her lip. "It's magic, Felicia, it's just magic. It's a door and a room and you're not going to..." She gulps, tucking her clenched fists up before her chin, metal spike still held and star-sapphire squirreled away in the chest-fur of her suit.

"Just jump!" A whispery sigh of fright and then, closing her eyes again, she makes a step of faith across the threshold towards the gravitional well of the bookroom itself, hoping against hope that she won't be wrong and doomed to freefalling for an eternity.

Doctor Strange has posed:
    The theif dives into the room, hoping against hope that once she crosses the threshold that she might fall like normal onto her backside, or she's accepting the chance that she could fall through the window and splat onto the side of the neighboring brownstone.

    Neither of these things happen in fact. She falls through the doorway and she keeps falling sideways before the lights change and the scenery shifts and a wave of orange glow washes across Felicia's vision before she's plopped down into a large, plush wingback chair. She's seated facing a roaring fireplace with a ornage side table adjacent to her right with another identical chair on the other side of the table.

    In the chair is a man, legs crossed tightly at the knee and he holds a saucer in one gloved hand with a matching cup in the other. "Tea?" The man offers, a saucer and cup float off the side table to float just within Felicia's reach.

Black Cat has posed:
"EEEEEEEEEEEEEE -- " Upon the //bump// of landing in the wing-backed hair, Felicia immediately stops making the sustained screel of fear. She looks around her, wide-eyed, and then realizes that there's another human being sitting across from her rather proper-like. She draws in her knees on instinct at his sudden appearance before the realization catches up to her that 'tea' does not spell anything like 'gun' or 'taser' or 'authorities'.

"...yyyyes," she finally replies as she reaches out towards the floating saucer and cup with her free hand. The other hand clutches the metal spike still, perhaps to be thrown as a weapon in case of panic. However, she has to set this down on her lap in order to take up the demitasse. Still watching the man with narrowed eyes, she sips at the tea...and finds it exactly to her liking. "Mmm." A sound of surprised delight. Suspicion is slowly draining away and it's now being replaced with a twinkling of curiosity. Adrenaline still has her heart beating like a drum, but this is...intriguing. "I suppose...this is your house?" she dares to ask, her voice returning to its nearly throaty tone as she settles back into the chair, crossing her legs as well at the knee.

Doctor Strange has posed:
    "I am its current care taker and tenant, yes." The man with the sharp goatee and the streak of white hair at his temples says, his grey eyes looking over to Felicia with a single raised eyebrow towards the breathy woman. "Seems you are the intruder, yes?" The man with yellow gloves that seem to fade into spots of blackness and then from that into his dark blue long sleeve top asks of Felicia with a look that she would find incredibly difficult to read.

Black Cat has posed:
The Cat sits up a little straighter in her chair and looks away from the man, but not after giving him a quick once-over visually. Her eyes now linger on the fire as she squares her chest and lifts her chin.

"Only because I've been caught," she replies lightly, a smile dancing around her lips. She sips at her tea again before sighing. "I do hope you'll forgive me. I'm the curious sort and this place just...called to me," Felicia continues, sounding bemused for a passing second. "Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back," she then asides, winking at the man as she looks at him again.

Doctor Strange has posed:
    Strange seems more than content to allow Felicia to speak, his only response being he lifts his own tea to his lips and takes a singular, slow sip. A bit ending up on the bristles of his mustache, but he dabs them away with a napkin. His cup finds the saucer with a soft -clink- before he extends a hand to the side table and sets it down. "I will forgive you for being curious, that is simple enough, but for theft, I subscribe to many of the old rules." Stephen says before he holds out his hand towards Felicia and gives an order, "Your hand." He says, sounding like he expects her to place her hand within his, or at least the item she stole.

Black Cat has posed:
Felicia's eyes fall to his outstretched hand and back to his face. Her gaze narrows at him and her posture goes stiff before relaxing once more.

"Oh, this little thing? Sorry about that mess," she says as she places the metal spar in his gloved palm and quickly pulls her own hand away before it can be snatched at. "If I'd known they pull that multiplying trick, I wouldn't have touched them. Curiosity," she says on an airy sigh, as if it were a small shortcoming. "But you shouldn't have left them balanced like that. You're asking for someone else to disturb them again."

Doctor Strange has posed:
    Stephen didn't seem like he was trying to grasp Felicia's hand as he doesn't even close his fist around the metal shard she handed him, but he does slowly bring it back to his chest where he pulls out a pocket with his free hand and drops the thing down into the pocket before he pats it. His shirt is flat as if it wasn't even there. "I'm sorry?" Stephen asks with a black eyebrow raised towards the cat burglar. "I thought you were the thief in this situation, not the interrior decorator." Stephen says with a hand smacking his forehead. "And here I thought I was getting a top shelf thief."

Black Cat has posed:
That statement is enough to make the Cat's eyes go wide. Her mouth forms a perfect 'o' of surprise for a few seconds before she then bites her bottom lip again rather fetchingly.

"Well, goodness little old me, why didn't you say that in the first place...?" she asks, slouching just the right amount in the wing-backed chair. "You're supposed to tell someone when they're being tested. Tsk," and she clicks her tongue once. "Whatever you want me to steal...I'll keep the sapphire as your down-payment for my services. You obviously know I've taken it, let's not be cat's-paw about it."

Doctor Strange has posed:
    "Sapphire?" Stephen says quizzically, looking towards Felicia with a twinkle in his eye. "I know nothing of a sapphire, but I am surprised at how many hats a thief can wear, as you now tell me how to conduct tests, I did not know someone your age was also able to be a proctor." The former surgeon says, looking back to Felicia and smirking the faintest of grins at the stunning woman. "I will contact you in a few days time young thief with a piece and a location for something I need you to procure for me." The wizard says before he makes a simple motion with his wrist and suddenly, Felicia is back on top of the awning she was on before she entered the brownstone building and the wind blows softly through her hair, tickling at her cheek.

Black Cat has posed:
The cat-burglar has enough time for a vaguely-confused little smile towards the man with the odd yellow gloves before reality around her shifts sharply again. She stumbles a little in place and digs her claws into the weather-worn singles of the wood beneath her hands as she stares at the brownstone building -- the one she was just in -- having tea...?

A scoff puffs white before Felicia's face in the cold night air. "...//magic//," she spits almost like a curse word before she pauses. Reaching into the fur at her collar, she pulls out the large star-sapphire gemstone again. It winks in the city night-lights. Her eyes fall to the building again and a pleased curl of a smirk appears on her lips.

"Alright then, Copperfield," she purrs to herself, slipping the sapphire away safely again. "Text me, I guess."

And with that, Felicia slips off and into the night, away from Greenwich Village and that befuddling house.