Owner	Pose
Miss Moreau	It's late at night, and the lights are on at the Bergenworth Jewelry and Fashion shop. A high end affair, it's highly profitable and a tempting target for thieves. But it's been rather unmolested, mostly due to a decent security system and being on the take by the Italians. The owner, one Francis Bergenworth, is known for his skill at jewelry, and money laundering. He even runs an orphanage. That orphanage and it's management by the man is the reason the leader of the White Roses has paid a visit. The store is never open this late, not even for the best customers. There's no signs of a break-in, at least from far away. A junction box a street down though has been tampered with. The back door is unlocked, yet closed. A white suited woman in her late twenties is just beyond that door keeping an eye out, glock at her hip. The back room holds the really valuable merchandice. In a large safe sits several diamonds and rubies, as well as some cash, that would make a steal for an enterprising thief with some good lockpicking skills. Or some thermite. The obstacle aside from the woman, however, is the shop owner himself. He's currently tied to a chair and gagged. The slight form of Miss Moreau stands in front of him, Scarlet Tome in one hand an a frown on her face. Slowly, ever so slowly, white scaled serpents the size of pythons are winding their way up the man's body. "My my, you have been /so/ naughty Mister Bergenworth! To sweet little cubs no less! Neglecting your pack because you can't hold your drink is just...just unthinkable! What /do/ you have to say for yourself?" He lets out a muffled scream as one of the snakes wraps around his left shoulder. Squeeze. Snap. "Hmph. Crying like a child already? This will be a long night for you." Moreau is, shall we say, distracted.
Felicia Hardy	Felicia was swinging through the city and one of the few shops she likes to actually go to as her alter ego. The Black Cat does notice the lights off when the security lights are usually on at all times. The Cat is rather curious as to why things seem oddly different. With a snap of her arm she shoots out the grappling hook from her wrist and changes her trajectory to a large arch that will bring her around to the back of the building by way of the top. She lands on the classic deco art styled building of Gotham and begins to make her way inside.     Eventually making her way to where the voices and muffled sounds are coming from Felicia spies a few things that catch her blue eyes. A girl with a book, the owner who's always creeped Felicia out, two HUGE snakes, and a safe. With her head peeking out from the ceiling and the domino mask keeping her identity safe, Felicia starts to lower herself down using one of her cables, the same way she's seen the web-head do a thousand times. "Excuse me." She says, her hair dangling far blow her head in a cascade of white and she smiles at Moreau, "But what's going on?"
Miss Moreau	As soon as that cascade of white hair flutters into view of the owner, he screams that much louder. The door guard hasn't noticed yet, but the oddly dressed woman catches the disturbance. The voice finally turns her away from her work. For a woman torturing a man with snakes, she puts on the most pleasant of smiles. Warm, even cheerful, she dips into a one-handed curtsey. One of the pack of pythons slithers over, and up Miss Moreau's body to drape over her shoulder. Beady black snake eyes stare directly at Felicia with more malice and intelligence than it has any right to. "Oh, dear, are you a late night shopper sweetling? Good evening. As you can no doubt see, Mister Bergenworth is rather occupied. He's been very, very bad lately. It's simply awful! Isn't that right?" The man, crying, looks at Felicia like she's his only hope. His eyes beg, as one of the snakes starts to curl and tighten around the /other/ shoulder. "What is your name, sweetling? Shall I recount what he has done to earn such a lesson?" She tilts her head curiously. Her personal serpent tastes the air with it's tongue.
Felicia Hardy	"You see the mask don't you?" Felicia asks, one of her hands appearing from the inside of the ceiling and taps the black around her eyes. "That means I don't want people to know my name." The thief reports as if that should be common knowledge. "Though some have named me The Black Cat, which is fitting enough I suppose." The white haired woman says, her tone is slightly annoyed but not anything else, meaning she has no concern for the shop owner and she looks to him with those slitted blue eyes and squints as if she's trying to gleam his secrets from his face alone.     "Oh shoot, you might as well tell me what he's done, cause you have this cat all kinds of curious."
Miss Moreau	Moreau chuckles lightly. "Unfortunately Miss, I do not. It pains me, for I have no doubt your face is as lovely as your voice." There's a slight, teasing little smirk here from Moreau. With her free hand, she runs delicate fingers around the edge of the chair, putting herself with the shop's owner between Felicia and herself. It's in a villain's interest to be cautious. "Everything okay in there Princess?" comes the door guard. "Fine, Snipe. We won't be too much longer." She calls back. The name strikes a chord. Moreau visibly perks up. "Ahhhhh, to think I would have such a visitor tonight. Unexpected, but not unpleasant. I have heard of you in passing. Miss Moreau, at your service!" Her and her White Roses are a bit of a local name as thieves, assassins, and merchants. Small, but notably vicious. And then there's the weird rumors about strange animals that always follows the gothic gangster. A nod. "His orphanage is not a charity project. Some of the children aren't orphans, even. India, Africa...snatching up little ones overseas, bringing them here, shoving their names on a tax return, then letting them rot with barely enough to eat while he pockets the money. It's how he built this fine little business." Shrug. "Aside from being in bed with the mob, of course. But I think we both hardly care about that. You see, Miss Kitty, if there is one thing I cannot stand, it is people who hurt little cubs. There is so little innocence in this city. Snuffing it out before the beast inside awakens..." A deep, sad, dramatic sigh.
Felicia Hardy	"Oh, if that's why you're here, then don't let me interrupt." Felicia says with a wink towards the shop owner. Apparently the Black Cat doesn't have any qualms about killing people that are on the edge of morality. "Don't let him suffer so much." Felicia's voice echoes out from within the ceiling, as she has recalled her wire back into her wrist and slowly is riding it back up into the ceiling.     Seems that The Black Cat will allow this event to resume as she really has no claim or fight in it, she's likely going to wait around and get into that safe when everyone's gone. Hopefully they don't set off any of the alarms, but that's why Felicia will stay quiet and wait.
Miss Moreau	"Ahhh, an understanding mask. How refreshing, dear! Good luck to you, kitten." Moreau either seems to take the Cat's advice, or is simply pressed for time. Someone will call the cops eventually, and that security system is likely to go back online. Two more snaps, the sound of metal being drawn from wood, and a gurgle. Silence. "A little justice done in the world." Moreau closes her book, and the serpents fade away in a purple mist. Clicking her cane back into place, she sings a jaunty little tune as she makes her way out the back door. There's already a car pulling up, a white BMW with forged plates. That's when the sound of someone throwing something filters it's way up to the Cat's hiding spot. Splashing. Finally a broken bottle. It's a quick coating, but an efficient one. The gasoline ignites, leaving little more than a ring where the body of the owner is. If the Cat wants her prize in that safe? She'll have to brave flame and be quick about it. The White Roses aren't here for cash. They're here to send a message.
Felicia Hardy	At the sound of the door opening and the car pulling up Felicia smirks, they wont care if she's going to get a bit of wealth and she doesn't care if they're cleaning up the streets a little, though how little is yet to be seen. Trickle down theory doesn't work with money or power. Someone will fill that spot.     Lowering herself once more from the spot in the ceiling Felicia sees the bottle crashing below her and then the sound of someone striking a fire. "Oh. Shit." Felicia whispers to herself before dropping to the floor as soon as the fire breaks out and she frowns looking at it and towards the safe behind it. There's no option there, but, she looks around the room once. Things all offices have, but two things she knows immediately are valuable. The ledger, and the computer. Creepy mobster itallians always have both and so both are quickly gathered up in Felicia's grasp. She thinks about the backdoor, but the risk is high. So is going back out of the roof. Smoke inhalation could easily get her killed. The theif takes a chances and bolts out the back door and turns in the direction she heard the car originally pull up from. know it would at least have to start off going in the other direction.
Miss Moreau	It's an easy enough escape, and by the time that Felicia is away from the roof? The cops finally swing by. The shop will have to be demolished, and much of the merchandice is in ruins. But that isn't to say the Black Cat's quick thinking goes unrewarded. There's a number of buyers for that ledger and the amount of evidence on the computer itself. If he weren't broken and burned to ash, the man would have been buried by half of this. Italians, corrupt cops, rivals of the man's criminal connections...thus ends a good haul.