9538/Out of the Frying Pan

Out of the Frying Pan
Date of Scene:	11 October 2019
Location:	Sanctum Santorum - Base Floor
Synopsis:	Felicia admited to helping Lucifer repair the Ley Lines
Cast of Characters:	Black Cat, Doctor Strange

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Black Cat has posed:
It would be correct to say that there's a new element to the manner of Felicia's sashaying around the Sanctum. In a gauzy cardigan of oceanic blues overtop a black tanktop and cream-colored fitted jeans, she's currently making her way towards the downstairs kitchen. The brisk air of the morning has broken to a cool sunniness and a cup of coffee seems just the answer.

She's even humming to herself as a palm lands on the railing of the curving staircase.

And then she seats herself on it to slide down like some sort of would-be carnival ride. The dismount is perfect and accompanied by a turn in place simply to make her gossamer top flutter like butterfly wings.

"Won't you gimmee that left-right-left, aye," she sings to herself, swinging her hips in time with the song's lyrics. Those hips don't lie.

Doctor Strange has posed:
    Stephen catches Felicia lost in her own world, standing near the base of the stair case, the wizard has his arms crossed and a cloak resting on an invisible manequinne next to him. With his finger impatiently tapping at his arm, Stephen lifts his eyebrow towards the thief and he struggles to keep the smirk off his face.

    "What's got you in such a good mood?" The sorcerer asks as he drops his hands to his sides and looks to the cloak to swoop to Felicia as it does ever so often.

Black Cat has posed:
Another spin in place has the cardigan rippling to curl about and then fall into place again about Felicia's body. How her eyes twinkle at the Sorcerer. The Cloak's approach has her throwing her arms wide as if to entice a friendly dog to hug.

"Hey you -- mmmmfff!" Muffled laughter follows as the relic momentarily envelops her before it swirls around to settle on her shoulders. The thief rubs her temple against one of the pointed collars before petting her own collarbone and by proxy, the Cloak.

"And hey //you//." Now Stephen gets an absolutely fetching smile. Her walk is all grace and femine wiles over to him. Palms land on his chest and get to fixing his lapels, that old habit not yet lost by the thief.

"I...fixed a ley line," she informs the Sorcerer with glee almost effervescent, looking into his changeable eyes.

Doctor Strange has posed:
    Stephen keeps his arms crossed, shoulder pressed into a corner of a door frame that he leans against. Even as she fixes his lapels, Stephen's hands drop to rest at her waist and yet that sense of intimacy fades rather quickly as his face changes and he shakes his head slightly, "You- YOU... You fixed a ley line." Stephen very uncharacteristically repeats something. "You know you have to explain how." Stephen says, grey, color-changing eyes trained upon Felicia's.

Black Cat has posed:
His surprise doesn't dent the Cat's enthusiasm -- if anything, a coy element now enters the cloud of smuggery about herself. Palms star across each of his pectorals as Felicia informs him,

"The Ritual of Sealing the Veil, in that one tome of rituals in the library." Stephen, with his prodigious memory, might know which particular book she's referencing; it specializes in protective and mending rituals rather than summoning or destructive rituals. "I had help though. The magician, Zatanna Zatara, stopped by to talk to you and brought a friend with her. His name is Lucifer Morningstar -- very proper, snazzy dresser, owns a club called Lux, and he knows magic! But oh my god, it was //SO COOL// meeting Zatanna, I'm SUCH a fan of hers. Her sleight of hand is //amaaaaazing//."

The brief diversion ends. "But yeah, Mister Morningstar stopped by again about a ley line being messed up and said I could help, so....we gathered the necessary elements and went over to a hotel and I set up a circle and read out of the book and the ley line's not messed up there."

Felicia beams, so very pleased with herself.

Doctor Strange has posed:
    Stephen lets out a slow and long breath... "You've met Loki... You know gods and demons are real, so you're not even going to question a man named Lucifer..." Stephen asks, sighing so deeply he may asphixiate and collapse. As he's trying his hardest to not scold Felicia for being reckless, as it is her basest nature, "Where's the book now?" Stephen asks suddenly ignoring the info about Zatanna and the idea that Felicia really could help with anything magical other than stealing artifacts.

Black Cat has posed:
"Um...the book is back where we found it in the library, but you..."

Felicia's air of delight falls down from around her like so many winklings of stardust. Her brows meet.

"...you mean that guy.... I mean, he's not... So..." Pulling her hands away from his chest, the thief then spins pointer fingers about themselves in a small circle before herself.

"So... He's Lucifer? The actual Devil? Like...with a big D?" Stephen now gets the half-concerned, half-innocent kitten look from his other half.

Doctor Strange has posed:
    "Oh my god Felicia. You said you were bad luck, but you never said you were so gullible." The wizard lowers his head and his hand finds his forehead. "Did you ever even question yourself or him? In the moment, neither you or Zatanna asked 'Could this guy named Lucifer be the actual Devil?' Not even for a moment." Stephen rants slightly before he slides down the door frame to sit on the floor and begin to allow the panic to wash over himself, just a little.

Black Cat has posed:
"Heeeeeeeeyyyyyyyyy...!!!"

Her arms fold beneath her ample chest and Felicia watches him sit down with a mild amount of irritation on display. It's heavily countered by the concern practically radiating from Stephen like a road flare at midnight.

"Look, I've met guys named Damian and Demion and Lucian and you can't just judge somebody by their name! I mean, the guy could be just...I dunno. Eccentric. His last name is Morningstar, for pete's sake -- that sounds like something out of a Tolkien novel. Couldn't he be some club owner who handed me a business card and somehow knows stuff about magic?"

She falls silent before adding, more quietly, "...and he didn't ask me for anything, like...like Loki did, so...he's not Loki." Her eyes fall off to one side and her shoulders slump.

"...and I just wanted to help because I fucked everything up before."

Doctor Strange has posed:
    With his arms falling out to rest on his bent knees, Stephen looks up to Felicia as she finishes her thought. "You have helped, tremendously, you didn't fuck anything up." Stephen explains, feeling again defeated that he's never around when Felicia meets these fantastical individuals, nor has he prepared her well for those she might encounter even just hanging around him.

    "You're going to go off on your own, but I don't have to let you fend for yourself..." Stephen says mostly to himself but to Felicia as well. "I'm going to find you something to carry with you... something you can use to get yourself out of a pinch. Not something to be used during a heist, do you get me..."

Black Cat has posed:
Her jade-green eyes flick to Stephen's face again and she nods, unwontedly solemn now. Her news was delivered -- now it's time to pay the piper.

"I follow you. Like an immediate escape if I get in over my head." Hesitantly, Felicia smiles, an offering of an apology in the display and sweetness to balm over the concern she's caused in the Sorcerer. Stepping over, she then kneels down before him. Knees land on the outside of his feet and she then pillows her chin on her folded hands atop the man's knees in turn, giving him a honeyed flutter of lashes.

"But you know I'm a big girl and I can tie my own shoes, right? That's why you hired me in the first place." Dimples begin to show. It's clear she's attempting to make him at least fight not to smile back.

Doctor Strange has posed:
    Stephen's arms against Felicia's chin as she leans in very close and he tries to keep his hands away from anywhere they shouldn't be. "It's not that you can't tie your own shoes, it's that I don't want you getting caught up with Dormammu, Shuma Goroth, or Zom without a way to get away. The people I tend to deal with aren't exactly someone you could flash your eyelashes at and get out of trouble." Stephen notes and does fail his smile save, the pull of his cheeks tugging at his lips. "Give me some time to look through my things and find something you could feesably use in the worst emergencies." Stephen says, still loving her enough that at this proximity, he can't help but smell and smile at Felicia.

Black Cat has posed:
"Oh, pffft." Poor Stephen's hands: with how she then wraps her arms about his bent knees, they're trapped in the //worst// place. Woe betide him! By the sly element of Felicia's grin, she knows it.

"Those guys all sound like assholes. Lucifer Morningstar? Come on. He really does sound like some elven overlord out of an old fairytale book. But okay, I got you -- I promise, I'll...be careful if I run into him again." This she promises the Sorcerer with the weight of truth behind it.

"...but I think I can flutter my eyelashes at Lucifer and get out of things, just so you know. He's pretty chipper for being the Devil," she adds, bemused by the idea. "I always thought the Devil would be, like...you know: obviously evil. Horns and a tail and stuff. But yeah, I know, Loki."

Jade-green eyes get rolled nearly out of her head and Felicia scowls off to one side. "He wasn't obvious either other than how weasely he sounded 24/7. 'Oh look at me, I have nefarious plans, muahahaha, let me tell you one thing and mean another because I'm an asshat'," she says in a mocking mimicry of the Asgardian mage's accent.

Doctor Strange has posed:
    "We'll deal with Loki in time Felicia, now in regards to you..." Stephen says, trying NOT to move his hands and tickle or upset Felicia in any way, "Maybe I can get you one of those horrible sling rings." Stephen says, but shakes his head already dismissing the idea. "Something you could use with one hand would be better, or ... hmmmm..." Stephen says, looking away as he tries to come up with some means to give a non-mystic a way to use magic to free themselves or escape some situation.

Black Cat has posed:
"Hmm." Felicia too thinks as she looks away from him again, off and up towards the stained glass window above the grand staircase. The sunlight is bright today, bringing out the full spectrum of colors in the glass panels so carefully and artfully wrought.

"Could it be some other kind of jewelry? Like a necklace? An earring or a bracelet? I mean, I can't wear a belly-button ring, that would ruin the lines of my suit," she adds, glancing back to him with lips purled against a smirk. "Or...like...a tattoo...? I could, like...say a word and snap -- "

The thief snaps her fingers as accent. "Vanished to safety? Because I figured out that intent's really important when you're reading magical words. If you don't put the right amount of willpower into it, the words either kind of work or don't work how you want them to. You have to mean it."

Doctor Strange has posed:
    "A tattoo would be the best and easiest option to work in that manner, but you'd have to have something, some like you said, piece of jewelry take the cost of the magic for you. Would you be okay with that?" Stephen asks, lifting his brow towards Felicia, meaning he'd get some ink charged mystically, tattooed and then give her a stone or something to draw and fuel the magic. "If that's okay with you Felicia?"

Black Cat has posed:
Fretting the corner of her lip for a second or two, Felicia considers the Sorcerer before her.

"I think so," she finally says. "It was my idea anyways. The tattoo has to be small though, and behind my ear, where no one can see it -- and you know me, I like sparkly things." Her grin glitters at him. "I know you'll pick out a beautiful stone for whatever jewelry you decide you want to give me. Not a ring though, I have to wear my gloves with my suit. A necklace would probably work best."

Her eyes squint thoughtfully at him. "...would you come to that club with me? To check it out? Lux? You'd have to dress up fancy," the thief singsongs.

Doctor Strange has posed:
    A simple nod should answer Felicia's first questions and that's all Stephen gives to her and then he rolls one hand to put his fingers against her cardigan and scritches twice quickly. "You expect me to dress up to go with you to a club owned by Lucifer." Stephen reiterates with a lift of his black eyebrows to Felicia and before he can give her a chance to sweat, Stephen smirks. "Sure, sounds like my kind of date."

Black Cat has posed:
With a ringing laugh, Felicia leans away from the teasing scritch. She simply returns the lift of eyebrows with a similar expression -- the smile is only milliseconds away by the sleepy, triumphant fall of her eyelids.

She knows how to access the Sorcerer's own curiosity in matters. Cleavage helps.

"Very good," she purrs, rewarding Stephen by the tone of voice as well. "It's a date then. We'll go check it out and you can see that he's not half-bad. I said he was chipper, remember? I'm not always wrong about things. I'm right more often than not," the thief notes with a fetching smirk.

"So when should we go? I have to figure out what I'm going to wear, though...I think I know." And knowing Felicia, it'll be dazzling in the best of curvaceous ways.

Doctor Strange has posed:
    "Lets go tonight. No time like the present." Stephen says with a smirk as he motions for the cloak to help Felicia to her feet, then the wizard puts his hand on the ground and stands up to his full height. "Shall we go get prepared for our, what is this, our third proper date?" Stephen foolishly asks.

Black Cat has posed:
Assisted to her feet by the Cloak lifting beneath her forearms, Felicia can't help but giggle more. Oh, how attached she's become to the velvety relic with such personality.

"Third proper date? Stephen." Hands fist on her hips and the thief cants her head to one side. "We've had more dates than that...but sure, we'll call it a proper date since we're both getting fancy. Let's say...10pm? I bet the club doesn't really get up and running until after 9pm as is. That gives me some time to primp."

Hours of it, but who's really counting?

"Knock on my door around 9:30pm, how about that?" she asks, stepping up into his personal space in a breeze of delight and golden sweet-caramel perfume to wrap arms loosely around his waist. She's thrilled from head to toe about this plan, apparently.