Owner	Pose
Felicia Hardy	It's getting on true sunset when the text flies across the city. It ricochets through the various antennaes and dives downwards towards the bastion that is the Triskelion. Bypassing the walls, it then makes its way towards one super-soldier's phone -- no, not Steve's phone, he's not on the campus. It arrives at the number directed with a identifying sound pattern as a foreign, untraceable person. //Rude to walk off on me, mister fuddy-duddy. Got a question for you still. Meet me at the wall where you did your best to capture me.// The Black Cat means his artistic recreation in chalk on the rooftop wall in Brooklyn. In fact, she is sprawled there on her back languidly on a sunwarmed raised portion of roof, where the brick outer casing of the stairwell exit was exposed all day. It makes her not immediately visible from the main level of the roof. In her catsuit, Felicia idly eyes her phone with a sigh. She's not getting impatient...not yet. In a bucket tucked beside the base of the stairwell's metal door is a military-grade glowstick, though this in a brilliant green rather than white or blue.
James Barnes	There was no text in reply. He's not sure he's guessed this right. But he does appear at the very edge of night, in dark jeans and t-shirt. The arm is covered by a compression sleeve with a subtle gray print meant to mimic the diamond tread patterns one might see on the decking of a warship, or old steel stairs. Hair tied back. He pushes the door open carefully, clearly not certain if he should come at a rush.
Felicia Hardy	The faint resonance of the door opening travels through the brick. Felicia slooooowly rolls through her side and onto her stomach, all the better to crane her head up and forwards to peer down over the edge of the stairwell's raised roofline. Her lips curl into a red-red smile. She waits until Barnes is at least stepped somewhat out onto the roof before deliberately scuffing her toe on the brick. She's up and behind him, lounged as comfortably as a panther on a limb by the way she rests her chin on her folded forearms. The fall of her platinum-blonde hair is pulled up this time into a messy bun, all the better to avoid the discomfort of heat. Still, she wears her domino mask and her kohl-lined eyes glitter at his arrival. "I wondered if you'd show up," she says softly, her voice deliberately melodious.
James Barnes	His expression is neutral. Utterly so. It's kind of perturbing, at times, to see that lack of anything there. A cool intelligence watching her, but....no emotional import. "How did you get that number?" His voice isn't harsh or demanding. Also flat, as he steps fully out onto the gravel of the roof.
Felicia Hardy	Felicia's lips purse for a second and she answers truthfully if shortly, "A friend. I'm not going to send you anything inappropriate, don't worry. I'm not that kind of girl." Pressing herself up now on her folded arms, she continues looking down at Bucky from on high. At his angle, all he'll be able to see are her collarbones framed in the silky whiteness of the fur lining her catsuit's dipped-vee neckline. "I'll even delete it once I have my answer. Off my phone, blip, done. I'll show you when I do it even," she promises. "So, my question. I had to be...a little more circumspect last time because of the spider-chick -- another one." Felicia rolls her eyes. "They're multiplying, oy. But, my question was if you knew Thor's younger brother, Loki Odinson. You're Captain America's buddy and he's probably drinking buddies with Thor. It stands that you might've run into the Trickster God." Boy, the thief has little projected fear of Loki given how lightly she tosses around his name and title.
James Barnes	"That number is unlisted," he says, still quietly. "And that doesn't mean much to me. I'm from an age where people remembered phone numbers." As he does. There are no preprogrammed numbers in his phone. None at all. The mention of Loki has him cocking his head. "I have encountered him," he says....and volunteers nothing more. Some of Winter's old reticence, the bastard.
Felicia Hardy	Even if Felicia wants to singsong about the phone number being listed somewhere, she doesn't, sensing it wouldn't turn conversation in her favor. His terse reply has her smile fading a small amount, but it doesn't disappear entirely. She lifts a white-gloved hand from the sunwarmed brick and gestures in a circle to encourage him on. "Okay, that's great, I have too. What happened to you?" Her jade-green eyes focus on him intently now.
James Barnes	He looks at her calmly. Still unreadable, the pale eyes level. "Why are you asking me about him?" he asks, simply. The question makes Buck blink at her. "That's a very general question. I don't really understand why you want to discuss him with me. I don't know him well."
Felicia Hardy	Brick gives beneath the curl of her glove's recurved nail as she glances down at it. The scratch grits in a short line as Felicia sighs slowly. "I meet a lot of people every day. A lot of those people are magical, like he is." Her lined eyes flick up and pin on him again. "You and me, we're not magical. We're mundane, as someone who would know very well would call us. We see things that even those magical types don't." She pauses a second, weighing internal conflictions. "I...can't tell if I'm in trouble with him or not. I kind of...well, I can't tell if I messed up. I thought your feedback might provide some clarity."
James Barnes	"You're in trouble with him," Buck retorts, without hesitation. "Even if he likes you, or isn't angry with you. He's just trouble. That's what he is. God of mischief. I think the only way to untangle from him is to hope he gets bored and wanders off, or distracted by something else."
Felicia Hardy	Felicia blinks at the even-toned report. She rolls her eyes up and off to one side in what must be a rueful, discontended silent agreement with his pronouncement of her fate. More brick fractures under the nail of her glove's pointer finger and she glances down at it as if vaguely surprised at this outcome. "Yeah, well...I don't know if he's going to get bored or not," she complains quietly. "I...think I have to thank him for doing something, even if I'm pretty sure he started a problem in the first place. I think he resolved it himself, which is...man, I wish I'd thought of that."
James Barnes	"Have to thank him? Why?" Still only the mildest hint of emotion there. "Did he specify how? Were there any bargains struck? I think, sometimes, that a lot of the folktales about deals with the Devil are really about someone meeting with him," Buck adds, almost as an aside.
Felicia Hardy	"I bet that's true, actually." Felicia nods at the supposition regarding the Trickster God and bargains struck with a devilish sort of fiend. Her tilt of her head is thoughtful while the narrowing of her eyes is less so. "No, he didn't specify anything. I thought I'd thank him because he did something nice for once, even if it was in the most round-about, back-handed, asshole-ish way possible."
James Barnes	Winter Soldier shakes his head. "Don't get any further entangled with him. And for the love of Christ, don't suggest to him that you owe him *anything*. He's quite capable of setting something up to make it look like he's the hero."
Felicia Hardy	Felicia snorts. "I don't owe him anything at all," she states a little too firmly. "And yeah, he probably did that exact thing with...my little problem. I've got it though, don't worry, you don't need to get involved. But what happened to you...?" She shifts up a hand to rest her jaw upon it, continuing to look down at Bucky. "You talk like you've had to deal with him being all tricky..."
James Barnes	He gazes up at her, pale eyes still almost blank. "The myths aren't all true, but they have their basis in truth....and I read a lot of the Norse myths when I was a kid. I think they're a decent guide as to how a given Asgardian might think or react. I've seen some of the reports on this actual Loki.....and while maybe your wizard has nothing to fear, those of us who aren't magical.....well, do you really want an immortal, clever, malicious magical being interested in you?"
Felicia Hardy	"I already have one of those interested in me, but he's a little less malicious..." Felicia purrs down at the soldier, unable to help herself in light of the tense discussion at hand.
James Barnes	Winter Soldier waves her quip away with a gesture of a gloved hand. "I don't mean like that. I dunno, maybe your appetite for trouble is a lot bigger'n mine. But me, I don't want Loki thinking about me at all. In fact.....why are you asking me all this? I bet your wizard knows a hundred times more'n I do."
Felicia Hardy	"Told you before, soldier: you're not full of magical tricks. You're normal, like me -- I mean, like," and she digresses with another circling gesture of her hand off to one side and an eyeroll, " -- we're not magical. We can't do the crazy things the Doctor and Loki can do. I guess I appreciate a little trouble now and then. It keeps life interesting, don't you think?" Bucky is given another knowing, mysterious little smile. "My wizard knows a lot, yes. He'd probably blow your mind."
James Barnes	"I'm sure he would," Buck says, noncommital. "Was there anything else you wanted? I know people now don't like to talk on the phone, but we coulda had this conversation on the phone. I mean, since you have my number." Not angry that he got dragged out here.....but sort of patient.
Felicia Hardy	Felicia waves at empty air. "Oh, pfft, no, we couldn't have talk on the phone. You said last time that someone had your leash. That's either a handler or, if not a handler, somebody with military ties, and I have nooooooooo interest in traced calls. I'm going to toss this phone as is once we're done anyways, after I've deleted your number from it," she informs him. The thief then slinks backwards into something akin to downward-facing dog before sitting up on her heels, her palms rested on her thighs. "I've got no more questions right now. I've got your number memorized though, so...unless you change it, I'll text you again if I think of something else." Her smile is pert.
James Barnes	He'll have to change it. But that would be a pain. Steve hates having to remember new phone numbers. Buck's lips purse at that, and he simply nods. "A'right," he says. And with that, he's turning for the stairwell door.