8458/Somewhat Unreliable

Somewhat Unreliable
Date of Scene:	23 July 2019
Location:	Felicia's apartment
Synopsis:	Loki messes with Felicia's head. Over and over.
Cast of Characters:	Loki, Black Cat
Tinyplot:	Weather Spheres

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Loki has posed:
Normally, there's one cat named Shammy on Felicia's bed. Cute and fuzzy, green and soft, emerald with the golden tips to fur.

The thing is, there's currently /two/.

Did Felicia get them wet? Perhaps she shouldn't feed them after midnight, either: who knows what would happen next...

Black Cat has posed:
Approaching footsteps to the bedroom within the Sanctum can be heard easily enough. The knob rattles and then it opens to reveal Felicia in all her...rather annoyed glory. By the firm line of her red-red lips and scowl, she's come across something -- or someone -- who managed to get under her skin this evening. She wears simple clothing, a t-shirt in lilac-purple with a deep vee-neck and a pair of grey yoga pants, loose about the ankles. Slippers complete the outfit.

"Oh my //GOD//, Shammy, you would NOT believe the asshole I...just..."

She peters off as she finishes traveling up to the bed. "Um." Jade-green eyes look between Shammy #1 and Shammy #2. "So." She stops again, tapping a fingernail against her teeth shown in a light grimace. "I...wasn't told you could multiply like this, Shammy," she mutters.

Loki has posed:
Both Shammys respond to her presense. One gets up, and mews at her. The other streeeeetches out long-ways on the bed and then also gets up to follow the first, and looks up at her as well. Both seem attentive to her problems, at least, but they offer no apology or information about the apparent duplication.

Still, they seem a good audience.

Black Cat has posed:
"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhm'god, that's... You really need to stop now, that's very cute, but..." Felicia drops her hands from before her mouth and lets out a squeaky sigh. "Here's the thing. Either one of you is the real Shammy or somehow, Shammy's duplicated himself. Sooooo..."

Her eyes flicker from one kitten to the other and narrow. "If I say that word he told me to say while I'm angry..." Her logic is that it will affect the real Shammy and leave the other untouched, but...by her hesitation, she knows it comes with the very real risk of a crazy magical reaction in turn.

Loki has posed:
The kittens continue to stare at her as if they were actually listening. Maybe at least one of them is. Neither offers her any answers, but they do seem to be exceptionally cute listeners. Almost manipulatively so?

Black Cat has posed:
Neither kitten appears to have responded to the idea, which grants her no further insight on whether or not it's magical mitosis or a case of confused identity between the two little creatures. Bending at the waist and placing her palms flat on the front of her thighs, Felicia leans in close to each kitten's face. She squints, seeing if there are any small tells between them.

"...would the...real Shammy please...meow?" she says tentatively into the quiet of the room.

Loki has posed:
"If you guess correctly, you'll win the game," suggests a disembodied voice near the kittens. They both blink at her, and try to move to bat at her hair. Like kittens.

The disembodied voice? Hard to pin down exactly whose voice it is, but if she's really good at voices? Jeremy, probably. Close to that, there's a youthful amusement in the tone.

Black Cat has posed:
The thief's eyes go wide at the disembodied voice. Shock does not aid her in identifying it, unfortunately, not right off the bat. Her face then scrunches up in disbelief and disapproval even as she lingers up close to the kittens both. That they both bat at her hair is of NO help in discerning who is who! Shammy does that all of the time!

"Okay, look, whoever you are, you smart-ass. I don't like this game. This is not cool. You're in the WRONG place to be pulling a stunt like this." Straightening up, she then folds her arms and glares down at the Shammys Two. "But fine, you want to play? You." She points at Shammy #2 and leaves her finger there. "You're NOT the real Shammy."

Loki has posed:
The Shammy she determines isn't real looks like she told it it's terrible. It folds its ears back and wilts, then begins to cry loudly. It's the most pitiful, awful sound, of course; punishing in another way.

"You broke his little heart, it's not his fault he's not real," rephrimands the disembodied voice in a sad horror. She's a terrible person, suggests the guilt trip.

During this, the third Shammy she didn't know was there crawls out from under the pillow and looks at her.

Black Cat has posed:
"Oh -- no-no-no, wait -- no, stop, I'm SORRY!" Her hands flutter uselessly before her body as Felicia winces to hear the sound the Shammy makes. "Look, I'm sorry, you're real, I promise, I just had to -- WHAT."

The appearance of the third Shammy has her clutching her hands before her sternum and letting out a soft 'eeep!' "Okay, whoa, this is -- okay, no, here, baby kitty face, come here," and she scoops up the second wailing Shammy to bring him to her chest in an attempt to soothe him. "Little cupcake, it's okay, shh," she says, still eyeing the third Shammy suspiciously.

Loki has posed:
The kittens wriggle everywhere, and at some point the number climbs to six total. Maybe more? It's hard to tell with them in quick motion, leaping over each other, and over the bed and under it, and trying to climb her, and so on.

During the chaos, Jeremy has appeared physically: he's seated on the floor near the closet, back resting against a wall, one arm loosely against a knee. A kitten has claimed him as suitable and has snuggled into his lap, while another bites and plays with a shoelace. He just watches Felicia struggle with a quiet, relaxed look.

Black Cat has posed:
By the time all six of the kittens have shown up, her concern has lessened by a noticeable degree. The wailing Shammy has been soothed and lounges along her arm now like a small green leopard on a branch. Felicia's kneeling in the bed and twiddling her fingers as false-prey for Shammy #5 when she realizes that Shammy numbers 3 and 6 have disappeared. But where?

Looking up and around the room, she espies...Jeremy. Immediate, her expression goes closed. Were she to have her own set of feline ears, they'd be pinned back flat.

"Hello, Jeremy," says the blonde, her voice cool and even. "I haven't seen you in a while. How have you been?" She slides to the edge of the bed rather than remaining fully upon it, with her hip rested and both feet flat on the floor.

Loki has posed:
"Okay," Jeremy answers, in the same manner of a friendly young man, same as always. He reaches down to pick up the kitten by his shoe, and moves a little to set it on the edge of the bed. It digs claws in it climb up and trundle towards Felicia.

"You left me behind, though," Jeremy says to her, as if stung a little bit. "I mean, I warned you and everything. I feel a little betrayed." He pets the cat on his lap gently.

Black Cat has posed:
As if unable to trust herself in further holding the sleeping Shammy on her arm, Felicia rises to her feet. She doesn't respond to Jeremy immediately; rather, she sets the sleeping Shammy onto one of her pillows and plumps it up around him. The trundling kitten is picked up and placed beside the sleeping kitten, perhaps with the wish for them all to stop being distracting in their utterly adorable nature. Kittens, oy!

"You did warn me, Jeremy, and I really appreciate how thoughtful that was of you." Still, the Cat's voice remains flawlessly composed as she turns and looks at the young man, her arms now crossed. "See, I have a problem now though, and it's been eating at me a little bit."

Around the bed she travels step by rolling step and it brings her before Jeremy. She leans down now to put her face not an inch away from the youthful innocence portrayed before her.

"I've been betrayed too. It's really disappointing, being informed by someone I would trust with my life, that you...are not who you say you are." Her voice takes on a venomously sweet note and she reaches up to attempt to pop her fingertip off of Jeremy's nose lightly, without intent to cause pain. "So, do me a favor, Jeremy. Who are you really?" There's a gem-cut hard glint in her jade-green eyes now. Up this close, she smells of her perfume in notes of caramel and vanilla.

Loki has posed:
Jeremy bucks his head backwards when she goes for his nose. Maybe to avoid proving to her that he's an illusion? Or maybe just not wanting a fingernail on his nose in that way while he's grumpy back at her.

"Wait. Who am I supposed to be?" Jeremy asks, with a thick curiosity, as if this might be an interesting new path. His curiosity needs to know. She might see an echo of her own curious behavior there. A mirror?

"So I saw that Dr. Strange was copied by somebody. Are you saying I got copied too? When? What did copy-me do? Did my copy get an Orb also? That's sort of exciting. Was it Summer?" asks Jeremy, sitting up more.

Black Cat has posed:
"Jeremy." Felicia's tone remains borderline saccharine, if still chilly like anti-freeze. "Nobody copied you. Somebody copied the Doctor. That somebody is in deep, deep trouble. They thought they were smart enough to get away with it too, but you know what's terrible about pissing off somebody with the ability to do things like travel anywhere?" She waits a moment, still leaning in close to his face.

"There's nowhere to hide. So even if that somebody wanted to run, he would be found eventually. Plus, you know what's worse?" Her voice drops a little into more of a growl. "It wasn't Summer, because you already told me you'd seen Summer, Jeremy."

Loki has posed:
Jeremy looks curious, and baffled. "If you think /I/ did this, wouldn't you do better to like, barter about it? Wouldn't it require me to be pretty powerful or something? As opposed to threatening me. Just a thought," Jeremy asks, but then shakes his head. He has no trouble meeting her eyes: as, in fact, he's about the best liar there is, when he chooses to be.

"I'm confused; I'm being accused of stealing the thing and running, but I'm right here?" Jeremy asks. He angles his head to the kitten at his lap, which twists, sensing the emotions from Felicia, maybe. "She's upset, she doesn't mean it," he murmers to the kitten soothingly.

Black Cat has posed:
"Oh, I'm not upset. Not yet," the Black Cat informs Jeremy with a smile. Butter would not melt in her mouth right now. "You haven't seen me upset." A more manic glitter has entered her jade-green eyes now.

"And I'm not bartering because you're currently a cowardly douche-canoe hidden away behind that cute wittle face. The second you //actually// show yourself is the part where I might //consider// something like bartering. So, Jeremy." She pops her lips.

"At the very least, you owe me an apology. Moreso, you owe me an Orb," she whispers in a tight hiss.

Loki has posed:
"She's yet to Hulk out, Shammy, it's just name calling first," Jeremy asides to the kitten, before he picks it up in his hand, setting it on his shoulder, and starts to walk around her towards her door. "Whoever did this really did win, turning us against each other," Jeremy observes, possibly to Shammy, tone sad.

Black Cat has posed:
"Damn straight, they did," Felicia spits under her breath. "Hey, I'm not done talking to you, mister!" Betrayed by her slip of the tongue there, even as the Cat slide-steps into the path to the doorway and then reaches out with the intent to touch Jeremy on the shoulder in the name of keeping him present. It's the kind of thing someone might say to a younger generation, where the idea of age in tandem with responsibility would override logic.

"You haven't told me that you didn't steal the Orbs. Look me in my face and tell you that wasn't you." The smallest hairline fracture in her confidence appears as she looks at Jeremy now. "That you didn't mimic the man I love and trick me. You tell me the truth." Now colors pinks at her cheeks.

Loki has posed:
He evades her grasp but does get pushed back towards the wall, and stops there, bumping it, one arm still around Shammy. Jeremy's eyes move to the side, towards her bed, sort of past her. He's looked towards the kittens a few times, but this is a different expression. Like he's looking at someone. Seeking to be shown what to do, maybe. It's fast, though. Then his gaze is back to her.

There's a shadow of fear in there, like the one when they'd arrived at the site of where Spring was. He looks at the bed area again, with a weird little plead. "I don't /want/ the orbs!" Jeremy says, upset.

Black Cat has posed:
Jeremy will likely mark when the thief realizes his attention is divided between her and something behind her. The fine hairs on her neck rise; her eyes widen visibly before narrowing. She steels herself with her fists clenched at her hips.

"Yeah?" Her throat works in a hard swallow. "Okay," she says quietly, her lips thinning. "Okay. Thank you for telling me the truth, Jeremy." Then, she turns to look towards the bed, expecting the pile of kittens to still be upon it.

Loki has posed:
There are, though one in particularly seems to have aged to an adult. As it did so, the fur turned from green to a rich black on most of it's body, leaving a gleam of beautiful emerald shine over the sleek fur, and the tail and paws dipped in gold. Languid greene eyes watch the both of them: Jeremy and Felicia, as the tomcat reclines in a regal way.

Jeremy fidgets. "I----" Jeremy begins, but then looks again at the bed, and kind of huddles back towards the wall. The huge eyed expression is the same as the one he'd used when he warned her about Dr. Strange. His face seems full of warnings he can't say aloud.

Black Cat has posed:
"Oooooooookaaaaaaaaay." Higher-pitched and a little breathy, the word leaves Felicia as she makes herself stand up taller. "Sooooooo... Look. I'll be perfectly honest. I'm starting to get a little freaked out here. You...are not Shammy," says the thief, pointing at the lustrously-furred tomcat sprawling on her bedspread. God, that's a gorgeous pelt and she can at least acknowledge it mentally.

"And you...I still don't trust you, sorry." She winces at Jeremy, feeling awful in her truthful commentary towards the young man. He appears genuinely frightened and her memory's keen enough.

With a wringing of her hands at her waist, she takes a step towards the adult cat. "Be honest with me, please. Who are you...?" Even by her tone, she's not expecting a truthful answer.

Loki has posed:
"Don't stop on my account. Are you going to punch the child, next?" prompts the black tomcat, slyly. It is speaking, despite the feline attributes. Magical cat. "Beat the information out of him? Humans. Phh. And you wonder why innocent people confess to things. Disgusting."

The cat looks at her coolly. It's smiling. Sort of. The smile doesn't reach the eyes. "Who /indeed/?" echoes the cat.

"Loki," whispers Jeremy softly.

The tomcat's eyes lance over to Jeremy with irritation.

Black Cat has posed:
Felicia's jaw can be seen to work behind the thinned line of her lips, the skin gone white around them; it brings up their red lipstick all the more vividly. Her hands are balled into fists again before her stomach.

"I have never hit a child and I never will," she finally says, voice ragged with its forcing through her throat. "I also did not threaten a physical punishment when speaking to him. Do not //twist// my words to suit your -- your mind-fuckery." She trembles then where she stands in a bigger fracture of self-control. It makes her jade-green eyes go glossy.

"How...dare you," she rasps, her mouth trembling. "How //dare you// use him against me."

Loki has posed:
With a sudden shapeshift, the tomcat melts forms. It's very swift, headed towards a full adult human. ... Dr. Strange, in comfortable black velvets. "You can't trust him, though," says 'Dr. Strange' to her, with a gesture of a flick of trembling fingers over towards Jeremy.

A flutter of glowing, poisonous looking green magic erupts from Dr. Strange's wrist, shrivels around the fingers in a weblike streak, forming something...

Black Cat has posed:
Stumbling backwards in frightened reaction to the sudden shift, Felicia's face goes paler yet. Two streaks of color remain high on her cheeks as she bumps into and half-collapses across the nearest high-backed plush reading chair. With a horrified gasp and gulp, she looks around the bedroom quickly as if for something.

"No," she spits. "No, it's not real -- it's NOT real, you are NOT real!?!" The appearance of the tendriling green magic makes her utter a broken sound and then dart for the backside of the nearest tall wardrobe. "You're NOT REAL!"

Out comes...'world-ender' and the thief brandishes the sword towards the Sorcerer so comfortably reclining on her bed in his velvety black clothing. "Get out of my room, RIGHT NOW!"

Loki has posed:
"He's not really here. This is... the sanctum, we're /safe/," Jeremy says suddenly, grabbing into her closet, and pitching the first thing he can lay hand on towards the bed. The shoe he grabbed flies forward and falls through the Dr. Strange illusion on the bed. Or appears to.

"That... is very rude," comments Dr. Strange, as the magic brews on his hands.

"Atrikitin, mardi'lee!" yells Jeremy at the bed, with a flash of white and gold magic discharged from his hands. "I call the sanctum to ward against you! You are not welcome here!" trembles the mage. The white fluxes down from the ceiling.

The illusion of Dr. Strange flickers and disappears, as do all the kittens. Jeremy slides sideways down along the wall towards the door, shaking.

Black Cat has posed:
Felicia flinches at the sudden movement of the young man off to one side. The sword's gleaming lines and fine tip swings towards him before she aims it back at the form of Doctor Strange on her bed -- on HER BED. She grits out a strangled sound to see the shoe fly //through// the Sorcerer: it simultaneously relieves her to her bones and strains her heart-strings to pain beneath her sternum.

The thief stands there, clumsily holding the weapon with every line of her form proving little to no experience with the blade in her fright, and watches the sudden pyroclastic display of magic. It blinds her and she yelps, swinging the sword in front of her. The reactionary motion cleaves through empty air before her.

Scrubbing at her face, Felicia blinks at the empty bed. A tear rolls down her face. "Oh m-m-my god," she whimpers before clapping a hand over her mouth. "Jeremy, I'm...I'm sorry!" The sword is left to clatter to the bedroom floor and its pommel makes a thunking rattle of impact as she darts over. The young man's hauled up into a tight hug against her. Poor kitten if it didn't move; it might get a little squished!

Loki has posed:
The kitten's gone, so it isn't squished. Jeremy is grabbed and pulled into the hug with a nervous yelp, his body tense and slightly shaking.

"I... did it work? I don't... he's a /god/," worries Jeremy in a quick ramble of words, hands moving to grip onto the fabric of the sides of her shirt, as he rakes the bed with his eyes.

Black Cat has posed:
"Yeah, he's a g-god, but this Sanctum is a-a-a safe place." Felicia sniffles once and then takes a step back from the young man. She looks between his eyes, her own having overflowed. The make-up must be magical; it's not smeared in the least -- either that, or she uses the strongest-sticking stuff on the planet. With palms on his biceps, she thins her lips again.

"Look, I want to believe you - I //want// to believe you, Jeremy." She attempts to shake him in place on the emphasized word, her lips splitting in a grimace. "I...wait." Her hands release him and she looks around the room, her voice wobbling again.

"Where's Shammy...?"

Loki has posed:
"I'm not a /child/, I'm thirteen," Jeremy adds petulantly. Priorities, as well, clearing up THAT particular confusion item from earlier. He looks worriedly at Felicia, then around the sanctum, then back at her. He rubs his arms where she shook him; his teeth rattled a little there.

"I want to tell you something, but I don't .... I don't trust there aren't ears all over this place. He was whispering at me. I had to do good. I'm not cowardly. I just..." He gestures at the bed where the cat-thing was.

"I don't know where would be safe. My places probably aren't," he says, while he squats to help her look under the bed for Shammy.

Black Cat has posed:
The sounds of doors opening begin to fill the room as Felicia darts around. They're left open to reveal clothing of all types hanging, knicknacks both esoteric and normal alike, jewelry on stands and displays, and various sundry eccentrities and necessities of the Black Cat.

Finally, behind a potted plant in the corner, she reaches with a soft sound and pulls out a very frightened Shammy. He curls up into a tiny ball against her chest as she crouches there and holds him, her own eyes squeezed tightly shut.

"...I've got a place that the Doctor doesn't know about," she volunteers very quietly into the stillness, giving Jeremy a limpid, pale look.

Loki has posed:
"I don't mind if Dr. Strange knows," Jeremy answers. He didn't move, other than to slide down the wall to sit at the base of it, arms around his knees. He doesn't seem quite as brave anymore as the mage that made the big white light appear. He just looks young and small.

"If it's him. That illusion was eerie," he adds, and sets his cheek on his knee.

Black Cat has posed:
Her pale brows draw together. "It wasn't him. That wasn't my...it wasn't him," the Cat finishes firmly, her tone implying 'so there' against odds. She rises to her feet and seems to trip over the carpet in her momentary fugue. Shammy mrowls and this sparks a rush of adrenaline through her, enough to banish away the weariness of shock briefly.

"You can tell me now though. The Sanctum wards made him go away, right? They're seriously powerful." Sniffling, Felicia wipes at her face to dry it with the inside of her wrist. "It's just Doctor Strange's house. Nobody else is listening except for me."

Loki has posed:
"No, he got in once," declines the mage. He pats his palms on the carpet on either side of his body, and then climbs to his feet. "Forget I said anything. I'll figure out a place to go." He looks towards Shammy. He extends a hand towards the kitten, intending to gently touch it. His touch causes a ripple of soft blue to appear in the fur, then fade. "If it comes up again... Shammy will know it's me," he tells her, and starts to retreat towards the door.

Can her curiosity handle the mystery?

Black Cat has posed:
Felicia stares down at the kitten's fur as it briefly lights up in a ghostly glow. Shammy bleats and nuzzles his face into her arm as if to hide away, earning himself a soothing petting from the thief.

"Okay..." she murmurs to Jeremy, watching him leave. Her brows knit once more and her mouth opens only to close again. "Jeremy, wait." Her eyes fall to the floor. "Let's..." Her dark lashes scrunch before she looks up at him again. "Go out into the hall. This room is different from other rooms in the Sanctum." She attempts then to usher him out into the hallway and join him there. The door is shut with a firm snap.

Inhaling deeply, she blows out a shaky sigh and then closes her eyes, reaching out to take the handle again. When she opens it, it reveals...

The lawn of her beach house out on the shores of the Atlantic. The sea air rushes in, cooler than the stagnant humidity of the city, and it's laden with salt. Out here, the stars are blanketing and the moon appears huge on the far horizon. "No ears here," she says, glancing over at Jeremy. Still, she doesn't pass through the portal just yet -- rather, she waits, still watching him even as the wind tangles in her blonde hair.

Loki has posed:
Jeremy was already basically into the hall. He watches her with the door, and then looks at it with a critical curiosity. "It... permanent? ....Neat," Jeremy says, but seems hesitant. He looks at her critically, as if deciding about his trust level of if she's secretly maybe a trickster, but then ventures through the portal to the beach, his sneakers suddenly sandy. His light brown hair, shoulder length, tousels and he pulls his hood up to contain it with both hands. "Where is this?"

Black Cat has posed:
"My family's beach-house." Outside of the confines of the Sanctum, the Cat's voice somehow loses a modicum of its volume. The sound of sea and surf no doubt factor in as well. She leaves the impossible door open to frame the interior hallway of the New York brownstone building as she walks through the grass, barefoot. The sand is cool beneath the soles of her feet as she reaches it, coming up beside Jeremy.

"It's in southern Rhode Island, Westerly County. We're nowhere nearby any town or city. It's a private place." She exhales, cuddling Shammy closer to herself.

Loki has posed:
Jeremy looks back towards the portal in the dark beach, that floating open door, as if listening, or watching it. Perhaps to determine if they were followed. He squats, and touches the sand with the fingers of his left hand, drawing the fingers across in a steady sweep, and then lets the grains tumble away from his lean, youthful fingertips. He nods a little bit, seeming to steady himself, or just take a quiet moment to think.

Black Cat has posed:
Jeremy is watched in equal, pensive silence by jade-green eyes no longer glinting or gleaming. Now, Felicia appears...melancholy. She rolls her red-red lips as she looks away from him and out towards where the night sky meets the distant dark horizon of the ocean. There's enough of a wind that the moonlight catches in the froth of the waves bourne into the shoreline. They continue their hushing rush and drag upon the sand as the thief walks out towards them. Of course the water's cold on her toes and she makes a quiet 'chuff' of sound, but the tactile sensation of curling her toes into the wetted sand is pleasing in itself. Perhaps this gives Jeremy the necessary time to muse.

Loki has posed:
"Okay," Jeremy says, finally. He's drawn some things in the sand now, while she walks out towards the water. He didn't follow, he's back where he was. He's sitting against his heels in the sand, out of reach of the tide.

"It isn't Loki. It's something else," Jeremy decides. "The thing that we saw with Spring. That faked being Strange. I'm still trying to decide what it was, what it is."

Black Cat has posed:
Hearing the single word from the young man is a summons of sorts for all it brings Felicia back over to stand beside him. The moon glows in her pale hair and in Shammy's eyes as he sniffs at the foreign air from his sling along her upper arm, mimicking a tiny green-tipped panther.

"So...if it's not Loki, then what is it? What else can do that?" Her voice is still quiet and small, as if she used up a goodly portion of her energy earlier. "...why can't it be Loki?"

Loki has posed:
"A few reasons," Jeremy answers. He stretches his back some, and then moves, to sit in the sand, sliding his feet out. He leans down to take his shoes off, and the socks, putting them into the sneakers.

"Something more like the Shadow King, or the demon that caused the Black Sleep. Something that wants the orbs to do something dark with them," explains Jeremy. "So first... motive. The world isn't fun to play in if it ends."

Black Cat has posed:
"No. That would suck. I like my existence," the thief agrees. She turns in place to surveil the ocean once more. A seagull flies overhead, navigating by moonlight rather than sunlight on the way to its rookery nearby. Shammy watches it go by with a bobbling excitement of his head before laying his chin back down on her arm. Felicia shivers a little; she left her coat back in her bedroom, after all.

"Fun to play in..." Her eyes fall to Jeremy and narrow. "Neither of those guys sound like they're into fun."

Loki has posed:
"I helped against both of those," Jeremy says, thoughtfully. "Though I didn't seek credit. This is my home too. We can't let these monstrocities take it as theirs," he says, with a frustrated breath. "And no, they're not. Well, Shadow King in a sadistic way. He built his palace out of the tortured minds he made into his slaves on the astral plane," he says, without hiding his disgust. It was sick.

"Why are you sure it's Loki? And that he'd destroy the seasons?" wonders Jeremy, looking over at her.

Black Cat has posed:
It's a very good question that the young man poses. Felicia purses her lips and looks away from him again. In her arms, Shammy starfishes out a tiny paw and then chooses to fall asleep, warm enough tucked against her ribs.

"It's...hard to explain, but the second part's easy enough. I don't know if he'd destroy them. Me -- I don't...but I'm also not magical. I'm a normal person with some freaky abilities. If a doctor came to me and told me not to pick up a snake because it might bite me, I'd probably not pick up. Why take the chance with somebody who, apparently, has a long history of causing trouble? I don't think the Doctor would freak out over nothing," she replies. "If the Sorcerer Supreme thinks the seasons are in trouble, they probably are. I believe him."

She toes at the sand now, watching the tiny grain tumble over her feet in silvery twinklings. "The first part's...harder. I don't think anybody has proof that it's Loki. Nobody's outright //seen// him. And why steal them if he's NOT going to do something with them? He's implicated himself by taking them in the first place, if it's him. It's not like he's sat down and explained WHY he'd take them."

Loki has posed:
"/I/ think he's smarter than to have shown it's him at all. Something else is pointing at him, and everyone's all too eager to go after Loki, that we don't THINK," says Jeremy. "Why look further than the person you want it to be?" he wonders. "And besides, if he told you it wasn't him, you wouldn't believe it, right?" He looks at Shammy, and smiles, extending a hand to touch a finger down the kitten's back, not disturbing it.

"Nobody believes the master liar. It's sort of genius scapegoating. I mean, until you look at why. What purpose would collecting them have," Jeremy asks. "My books just say they can completely change the flow of time on the planet. It's serious. Not a game. A real wizard would know that."

Black Cat has posed:
"Loki's a real wizard according to what I read. The books don't make him out to be some conjurer of cheap tricks or anything. Why NOT come out and prove that it wasn't him? He's got power. He's a god. He's //further// implicating himself by letting someone else sully his name. If he's a god, let him prove he's powerful enough to put the Orbs back where they need to be."

Felicia glances down at the kitten. His whiskers twitch in sleep, limned with moonlight. "Unless he's a coward, I guess. If he told me it wasn't him, and he showed me the Orbs were safe...I dunno. I might believe him. Until now, yeah, he's...kind of letting somebody else set him up for the fall as far as I can tell, if he's innocent."

Loki has posed:
"I generally do what I can to stay out of things. I'll do a little nudge, sure, but for the most part, dealing with things directly isn't really my duty," sighs Jeremy. He gives her a little liquid look that ages him considerably, and then shifts.

The shift is effortless; there's no big glaring splash of illusion fanfare or anything else, just a comfortable adjustment to his own form.

Loki.

He's dressed basically the same; casual modern dark jeans, barefoot, black hoodie under a stylish jacket, his black hair down, similar in length to Jeremy's.

"I prefer 'survivalist' over 'coward', please."

Black Cat has posed:
It's the curling rise almost as a heat shimmering in her peripheral vision that makes Felicia glance up and over. Sand shifts beneath her feet as she rapidly moves backwards about ten feet or so -- only her impeccable sense of balance through a supernaturall-enhanced inner ear keeps her from turning an ankle in her haste. Loki is treated to yet another facet of 'boggled' on the thief's face.

Oh...my god: it is actually Loki, just as Stephen warned her here on this very beach not days ago. She might as well be projecting the alarm mentally as an air-raid siren.

Her mouth parts, opens more, shut again to grit her molars, and then a long, hissing sigh leaves her through her teeth. "You...know what? It took you damn long enough," she growls. "Survivalist, my ass. You hide behind your magic and you yank EVERYONE'S chain. God, you BASTARD." She shudders and runs the fingers of one hand through her wind-ruffled hair to grip at it, as if the brief pain at her scalp would ground her in the present. "Do you know -- no. No, you know //exactly// how much pain you caused me with that goddamn -- that //fucking// trick of yours. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't put this kitten down and go for your eyes. Let's go. Snap-snap. Five seconds. Five...four..."

And wow, she does keep on counting down, apparently mad enough to test her unarmored, unweaponized self against the God of Tricks.

Loki has posed:
"I do have Winter and Summer," Loki answers, without turning to look at her, as if she'd been pleasant instead of threatening physical harm against him. "But not the other two. /That/ was interesting to watch. The two I removed from SHIELD are safe at this point. I'm a far better warden to protect them than SHIELD could possibly ever hope to be. Even if it is not, as I said /my/ duty. Guarding these things is as beneath me as being Sorceror Supreme would be, and yet my good gestures are met with threats."

A breath is released, and Loki observes the ocean a long moment. "This place is such a dismally far cry from Asgard, I cannot even explain. Yet we persevere."

Black Cat has posed:
His response stoppers up her countdown at a trembling 'two'. Felicia stands there, quivering and feeling too hot in her cheeks and too cold in her extremities, as she listens. The edge of her teeth digging into her tongue stops her from further spewing anger at him -- answers could be found and reported here, hence her entire charade from the very second she noted Jeremy in her bedroom. Thank god she didn't tell the good Doctor about her intentions.

"It's not such a good gesture if you don't tell people //why// you're taking their things," the thief mutters and then...immediately pinks. Her lips flatten again before she continues more sharply. "So why take them and make everybody run around like - like - chickens with their heads cut off? Do you know how much sleep people have lost over these Orbs?"

Loki has posed:
Loki has his head turned towards the ocean a for a time, and he tilts his head up and back towards her, eyes dark in the night's lack of light, but the expression of amusement is there. If he catches her blush, or mood shift - it is likely, he's very sharp, when it comes to reading others.

"They're protected," Loki begins, and then sleekly adds, "Leave me my bit of fun." He shrugs both shoulders. "People enjoy a mystery. I'm willing to provide." He rests both hands back in the sand, amid the runes he drew earlier when he crouched down. Loki plans multiple steps ahead.

"I suppose it's fallen to me to recover the other two orbs," Loki says. "Though I don't want all four. I'm not trying to start an apocalypse. Moving to a new realm is a hassle."

Black Cat has posed:
About as bravely as she can manage, Felicia returns his side look. This time...and maybe the light was wrong...but he appeared actually amused instead of just mimicking the countenance. It makes her look faintly as if she sucked on a lemon.

She's heedless, right now, of the sigils drawn on the grains of sand before him. One step is taken closer to him, affronted bravery replacing initial fright. "This is not fun, you -- seriously?!" The sputtering hiss sounds very much feline at this point coming from Felicia. How Shammy remains asleep is an enduring mystery of the times. "If you couldn't stop the Orb of Spring from being taken, how in the hell are you are you going to get //two// Orbs back? No. No, come on. You want to make yourself look good to everyone, you include me. You //owe// me anyways, you asshat, for that stupid trick you played." Hmph. So there.

Loki has posed:
"Consider it paid in full with Shammy," Loki wheedles promptly, looking at her precious little green magical baby. "I didn't expect you to just hand over the other one like that. I was waiting for him to appear, and come out of his magical shells. I wasn't about to expend MY magic until the right time. Trust the human to do something ridiculous for /love/," he says baitingly at her, lowering his head slightly, but his eyes stay hard and unflinchingly on hers. His otherwordly stare carries a similar weight to one from his brother, Thor: just with very different emotions on it. Still, weight of gods.

Loki moves his hands suddenly against the runes on the sand, and the gold, glowing shapes sink into the grains with a golden, shimmering churn, as if he were unlocking a massive dial around himself in the very land below. "This thing /is/ fixated on you perhaps, though, so you have to be included. Maybe it's feeding on you."

Black Cat has posed:
The kitten in question is held closer yet to her chest at the mention of his name; the quick movement jostles him awake with a soft mew, but he blinks sleepily and returns to his ragdoll-limp recline quickly enough. It seems that even if this is a creation of the God of Tricks...it's Felicia's now. Ain't nobody taking Shammy from her, not even the God of Tricks. Her throat moves at his sharply-aimed knife to ribs. Still, if he hadn't made mockery of her fond reasoning for throwing herself into the plant-filled fray, maybe the Cat would have looked away.

As such, she angrily, stubbornly, silently glares back into those dark eyes. Who knows what color they truly are? She can't tell in this lighting.

She retreats, losing the step she gained, at the sudden glowing of the runes upon the sand. They under-light her face and turn her irises a more vibrant shade of green, nearing the dappled leaves of spring. "Feeding on me?" she finally asks. "What the hell would it be feeding on? My soul? How would you know, if it's my soul? You can't have a soul, since you laugh at love."

Loki has posed:
"Mmmmmmm. I merely poke to expose opportunities for others to /grow/," Loki replies. The gold runes shimmer and then go flying out over the sand in all directions, as if they were launched outwards to go and seek, and find, like little runners of golden messengers. Loki draws his hands back in, dusting off the sand, and sleekly stands. He's lanky and tall, far taller than Jeremy was, but he isn't doing a dominating presence.

"I have, in fact, been Jeremy for the whole that you've known him. Ignoring the minor lie of identity that was /necessary/ to not automatically suffer stigma, I have been nothing but supporting and kind to you, even leading you to Spring orb. Your choices of what you did with that are yours," Loki says, extremely reasonably, moving towards her now. His body language is calming, relaxed, the same he'd use to sooth an aggressive villain, really.

"Instead of antagonizing me, it might be better to listen, in that when I say I have two orbs, may go find the others, but don't wish to have four - that you HEAR what I'm suggesting: that at least one of mine needs a new guardian."

Black Cat has posed:
Given the number of inches of height the Asgardian god has on her, Felicia feels it necessary to take another step back. The soles of her feet never lose purchase on the sand itself and the degree of twist to her hip to showcase the partial side of her body speaks to a readiness to bolt back towards the open portal-door. After all, she can't bring her news if she's held up in any manner. Loki continues to get a cautious green-eyed glare. His logic is sour to her and stings at her wounded pride; it makes her lips twist once more.

Still...his quiet, even words have the semblance of an offering. "I think...you should give back one of the Orbs to Doctor Strange as a peace offering and proof that you weren't being a dick simply to be one," she replies with her own reasonable volley across the court to the Trickster God. "Since he's very, very powerful and a good guardian. The only..." Swallowing her tongue isn't an option, but by how she fights herself to continue may give this impression. "The only reason the Orb of Autumn got away was because of me."

Loki has posed:
"I'll even let him pick. Summer or Winter," Loki says, with a generous, regal arch of his head. He looks down at one of his hands, and flicks some sand out from under one smoothly shaped thumbnail. There's probably a sense of him having planned to do exactly what he's doing now.

"Although I call into question his judgement on letting SHIELD have them at all in the first place," Loki amends. "And I am considering alternate guardians, such as Hela, the goddess of death."

Black Cat has posed:
By all intents and purposes, Felicia knows she should feel better having heard his magnanimous overture. She watches him fuss with his fingernail in a cleaning gesture and realizes there's sand all up the hemlines of her pants. A tuck of her chin is followed by the subtle shake of her head.

"Hmm...nmm-mmm. The Orbs are ours. Us, the humans here in this world. You wouldn't give any Asgardian relic to a human to guard. Give them to metahumans instead. It'll make you look more understanding and...less of a presumptive, human-hating jerk."

Loki has posed:
Loki manages to strangle the little sound he was making at the idea of giving an Asgardian relic to a human. That sounds like some ill-advised idea of Thor's. "They should remain in magical hands, respecting their /history/, of having magically attuned sorcerers and sorceresses as appointed guardians. You can tell Dr. Strange I wouldn't have meddled at ALL had the guardians been proper. I was virtually invited to have to assist. Much as I was when I saved Dr. Strange from being lost in the Astral Plane, when we had that abysmal stand-in Supreme last year. You have him /now/ because of me transporting him to those that restored his mind. Don't presume to begin to lecture me about my role here. I'm on your side, girl. And I /tire/ of proving it continually."

Loki moves towards her, but his gaze drops to Shammy. He doesn't get close, but he does brush a hand in the air a little bit, which ruffles Shammy's fur and makes it electric blue along his back for a moment. The kitten puuuuuurrs. "Should you insist on me being an enemy, I suppose we can continue the trend of bad choices from you, though," Loki teases, a playful tone similar to Jeremy's entering his voice.

"At the very least, get smarter in how you deal with me," Loki says, with a warm kindness that does come into his eyes. Loki's fully able to emulate all kinds of emotions, when he feels like it.

Black Cat has posed:
Shammy is hidden away (in theory) by the abrupt turn of the thief. As if she could completely circumvent the mage's affects upon the green kitten with this, but he's held tightly to her chest and beneath her chin, even if she can still feel the dissipating blue glow like the finest misting on the pulse of her throat. He mewls in concern even as Felicia leaves her back turned upon the Trickster God. Brave? ...a questionable decision, quickly rectified when she turns back to face him again, her jaw set.

Then, her own lips curl up at the corners. It's difficult for the blonde to dredge up her own mask of couquettish charm, but how she tries, shoving away her screaming sense of self-preservation to the back of her mind.

"So...I should be thankful to you, then, since you brought the Doctor back." A step closer. "And grateful for you being so...//honest// with me." Yet another step, her toes spreading through the sand. "If you're on my side...prove it one more time, twinkle-fingers." The last step brings her within an arm's length of him. Her fingers soothe Shammy with a gentle massaging behind his ear. She looks up at Loki through the fans of her dark lashes. "Prove it to me and I won't give you any more trouble...that you don't want," she finishes in a low and musical fashion.

Loki has posed:
A game? A challenge? Loki's pleased, and doesn't hide it. No reason, to, at all. There's a shiny hyper-focus to his dark eyes. It is a look that Thor usually responds to with extreme dismay. Loki's ideas of how to bend the rules of games or to immediately try to find a loophole can be dangerous at best, lethal at worst.

He extends a palm upwards in a gesture of 'give it over', prompting her quietly on what her idea is, exactly.

Black Cat has posed:
Felcia's eyes fall to the offered palm and back to his face. One dimple begins to show in a patient amusement of her own she doesn't entirely feel.

"I'm not going to give you a low-five or anything like that, twinkle-fingers," she murmurs, very certain to keep both of her own hands involved with holding and stroking the back of Shammy's neck very gently. "Prove it to me by..."

The thought hangs as her voice fades out, replaced by the passing of the ocean winds nearby. The chill catches up to her and she shivers in place despite herself.

"...by giving //me// one of the Orbs to guard. A real Orb. The //real// thing...that I'm going to keep in the Sanctum." She holds up a finger close to her own body, close enough that the knuckle of her thumb touches the kitten's green-tipped fur yet. "Doesn't count if you go back on your word to offer an Orb to Doctor Strange. I'm not Doctor Strange. Whether he takes you up on your offer is on him. Me... Give //me// one of the real Orbs."

Loki has posed:
Loki watches her, considering her words, it appears. His expression isn't mean, it's friendly. He moves around her, to one side, laterally, as if considering what she's asking for. His hands rest against his pockets. He looks out to the sea, his dark hair curly from the sea humidity, but still flowing, ripples with the wind. He moves back towards her, coming into her personal bubble and then some, easing his face in close to her, dark eyes gentle, tolerant. His presence is regal in tone.

"No."

Loki smiles a little, expression still kind. "You have already given one to an enemy, and are not a sorceress to defend it properly. So ?. No. I won't risk this realm for /your/ trust." He lifts his brows, smile victorious. "Did I pass the test?" he asks, sleekly. "Because I'm certain that I did prove my wisdom, just now."

Black Cat has posed:
Slowly, Felicia shakes her head. Her chest rises and falls in a marked sigh. Her air is disappointed now, pitying by the draw of her brows and the sadness lingering in what could have been a smile.

"I reeeeally wanted to trust you too," she murmurs, defying the small voice still gibbering in the back of her mind at his nearness -- this is, after all, the most powerful troublemaker she's come across in all of her years. "It's a bummer. You had a chance to convince one of the people closest to the Sorcerer Supreme that you're a good guy at heart. You know why he keeps me nearby?" She too leans in closer, halving the distance. Up this close, small flecks of darker green can be seen around her pupils.

"Because I'm //not// a sorceress. Because I'm the scariest thing he knows in the mundane realm, as he calls it. So...let me share a little wisdom of my own: you're going to eat crow if you keep underestimating us non-magical people. Or maybe in your case..." Her eyes drop and drag back up his face again. "Raven. And I mean 'us', not me. That's not a threat to you." She smiles again, toothily. "Just a reminder."

Loki has posed:
"Learn magic, and perhaps I'll consider you as a guardian," Loki parries sleekly, without even any real pause. They're clearly circling each other, and it's not something Loki's upset by. She's interesting, and he's enjoying himself. The threats are flowing off him like water over his liquid-black feathers.

"I require people /learn/. Mischief creates change, adaptation. Do you not feel stronger, smarter, from having met me?" Loki purrs. He lifts a hand to gently attempt to flick a few fingers against the side of her hair, since she leaned in so close, but there's nothing more to the gesture than just that.

"Or perhaps we could simply turn you into a magical beast, to protect the orb in a temple. That could also suit the orb," Loki considers. "Do you like minotaurs?"

Black Cat has posed:
Loki wins the initial 'close-off' for the rise of his hand up towards her hair. The Cat leans away by dint of self-preservation a twitch's worth in turn, her smile cooling more yet.

"I feel like I need to wash off, having met you, but I'll consider this over a glass of wine in the bathtub later," she snarks with a fractured snicker. It might be stupid to poke the god on later reflection, but it's incredibly gratifying in the moment. "And thanks, but no, on protecting the Orb like that. I've already spent some time as a magical beast. It didn't sit well with me. The hairballs were the worst."

Her lashes narrow once more. "You don't think I'm scary, I get this, but you like seeing what happens when people get angry, don't you? It's entertaining. Go on, cast a spell. I'll show you what happens when I get angry. You feeling lucky?" Now comes the nearly manic influx of light to her eyes and the accompanying adrenaline rush.

Loki has posed:
Loki doesn't give her any chance to prepare really: he drops his hands back, then one comes up, a claw of magic spinning in palm and wrist right in her face. The other hand prepares a different spell. It's fast and talented: Loki's outright frightening to most casters; thousands of years of practice and a well of godly power can do that.

The first spell is meant to get in before she can react: a mind spell, to try to pluck her current thoughts off the surface of her mind, to get an idea of what she's planning. That one is from the hand he pulled backwards behind him, although that was the spell that went off first. He follows it with a more showy and deliberate transformation spell: an attempt to draw her form towards one of a scaled beast. He did listen about the hairball thing.

Black Cat has posed:
At the very second the relative quick-draw begins, Felicia thinks about the power she's been keeping in check since this interaction began. The fortunosphere around her person wends and warps and now, anything crossing its boundaries is turned upon itself in a rude, nearly kinetic slap-back of negative influence in turn.

Magic, however, flies at the speed of a synapse's flash in return when handled by one as masterful as an Asgardian long-lived. Loki will get the skimming of her mind as he wishes, but...what's this? Um, ouch, how embarrassing -- it's the memory of when Felicia fell off the stage in eight grade during her part in Romeo and Juliet. It resulted in a bruised knee and shoulder and a few quiet tears behind the curtain before she composed herself again, going back out to finish the job; a perfectionist as a child lingers on in adulthood.

The second spell breaks upon the malingering affects of her tychokineses and in the hanging breath of realization, it melts into ropey strands of frozen electricity in auroral form and shatters down upon the sand around them. Immediately, things about five feet long begin stirring beneath the moonlit surface. Felicia dances back like a cat spotting a cucumber, a frightened yelp leaving her mouth, as what appears to be something ancient and saurian rises. It's a...crocodile? Dinosaur? It has too many eyes though, ew!

Loki has posed:
The reactions of what happens to the magic is bizarre. Why the hell is she focused on some old memory? Loki's immediate assumption is she's using that to block her thoughts: perhaps he underestimated her mental fortitude, he'll have to use a better spell if he expects to get more. But the secondary chaos, as his spell gets diverted, is interesting indeed. He flips the casting hand forward, calling a weapon...

And a piece of driftwood appears in his hand. Huh. He channels through it, and it grows flowers. More huh.

"Chaos effect, cute," Loki laughs. He dodges back from her, magic fluttering through his body, and then lunges at her. His body explodes into mirror images that fly out in various directions, a mass splintering like a mirror of many Lokis.

The god of chaos adapts with the result, and the mirrors channel a pyre on the crocodile, a PHWHOOM of heat and inferno, scorching the sand.

Black Cat has posed:
The sand-dile certainly doesn't survive the pyroclastic impact of the spells all landing upon it. With a shuddering bellow like the grind of tectonic plates, it dissolves away and takes its meandering breatheren with it. Felicia's found her way up onto a nearby boulder during the fireworks display of magical prowess. It's a goodly ways up, about a dozen feet, meaning she must have leapt clear of the sand. Shammy is blinking in outright confusion -- whoa, that was some severe jostling.

Her bad luck powers still undulate about her like a fog, streaming and swirling, as she stares at the Asgardian mage. "It's...chaos, sure, yeah," she pants, her voice just shy of a squeak.

Loki has posed:
The mirror image that Felicia spoke to disappears out of existence, and Felicia, for the moment, appears to suddenly be alone on the beach, aside from the smoldering spot where all of the pyro kinetics just landed. The piece of driftwood is there too, with a few white lilies growing upon it, from the other strange misfire of a spell.

Then there's a reappearance; off to the left. Jeremy. He's laughing a little, hands on his knees, at the general area of the spell effects.

Black Cat has posed:
From atop her proposed island of safety above the sand, Felicia hears the chuckling. She turns, one knee pulled up and tucked against her other leg in something halfway between Tai Chi's 'crane' and startlement, to see Jeremy once more. It twinges her heart hard, to be reminded of the tomfoolery enacted through the young man, and completely breaks her mask of composure.

"Yeah, I'm done." Jumping down onto the sand, she starts to break into a quick jog back towards the portal-door leading to the Sanctum. Shammy makes undulating mewls with each step. It's a goodly distance to run now, even at her loping speed, and there's more than enough time to interrupt her retreat.

Loki has posed:
"It's good to show your allies what your powers can do, so they can work with you. I do appreciate it. I think I've sorted out the range and a workaround," Jeremy calls after her as she flees. In other words, he's gotten a scope of her bad luck ability, and still set off a firestorm to rip apart a magic monster. So there's that.

"I'll give Dr. Strange a day to come take one of the orbs, before I hand it off to someone else. I have other orbs to rescue, after all, and I don't /really/ care that much about this." Loki's voice now, he reverted. The Jeremy thing wasn't intentional; more of another test of her bad luck field. It was bad luck to pick that one right then, based on her reaction, indeed. But Loki's elastic, his plans changed twenty times over the course of just the afternoon!

"I'll give you Summer if you prove to /me/ you don't just want it for a petty reason of vengeance against me," Loki adds temptingly. A churn of magic in his hands summons the orb itself: Summer, in its beautiful, warm golden glory.

Black Cat has posed:
About five yards from the warm, familiar safety of the Sanctum's hallway, the thief slows. Even with the distance between them, Loki will be privy to the hard glint of her gemstone-green eyes as she turns to look back at him. Now he's his usual self -- this...is somehow more tolerable.

"...you better mean it, because I'm taking that Orb to do something right." Her voice cracks. "To do something honestly good." //For once//, the unsaid addendum -- //To prove that I'm not a fuck-up to the man I love//, she thinks unspoken. "You think you can take me at my word or what?" She outstretches a hand now, as if he'd come and place the Orb within her own. "Or - what?" The thief bites out again, tears clogging her words.

Loki has posed:
"I'm the god of lies, Felicia, I can read you. Partial truth? You can do better," Loki says, as if saddened by her. He flips the orb in his hand into the other hand, and starts to draw it back, giving her a disappointed look. "Or you can tell the good doctor you failed him, when Summer was in front of you, because you needed to posture against me. Despite that I'm offering you exactly what you want, with minimal requests on my end." He shoo-shoos her with his other hand.

"Go on then," he says, and starts to fade away, like an illusion of a dream disappearing through her fingers, Summer starting to wink out.

Black Cat has posed:
There aren't any words left for her to find, not after Felicia realizes all of her posturing, intentional and knee-jerk, has been for naught. A tear or two slides down her cheek as she lets her hand fall to bounce off her thigh soundlessly.

"The hard way it is then," she rasps and spins on the pad of her foot. Shammy makes a mrrrt of surprise at the sharp turn-about. Her palm is smashed over her mouth to prevent the overspill of emotions from escaping. Up onto the natural gradiation of sand to low-cut sea-grass she goes and reaches for the portal-door leading to safety and security within the Sanctum. In full retreat she is now, tail tucked between her legs, all the better to leave behind the lost dream of an attempt at goodwill.

Loki has posed:
The beach is empty and silent; Loki left her with her guilt and failure - at least, according to him - without further injury or attack. Those can come later.