Owner	Pose
Felicia Hardy	It's actually very quiet in the Sanctum. What hustle and bustle there used to be, minimal as it was, is lessened yet. Inside, the atmosphere is different...changed...though it might only be noticed by someone familiar with it. With a grunt and a hiccup, there's the sound of a box being dropped by the front door internally. Felicia, wiping at her face, then stares down at it. Inside, half of her totality of belongings from her living here in the magical space. After all, new management has evicted her with a silver-tongued glee. Granted, she did slap him first, but it was long due. Around her ankles twines an adolescent cat, Shammy. Aptly named after a 'shamrock', green as he is, he sports a white tuxedo marking and blaze up his nose while the majority of his verdant fur, lightly striped darker, is tipped in gold. His eyes, green as apples, look beseechingly up at her: pick me up, pick me up. The thief obliges him and holds him close beneath her chin.
James Barnes	Ho boy. Wait until Lucky Charms there sees the big dog at Buck's side. Since this is a casual visit in search of the lady herself, Lili's heeling neatly. Oh, she's leashed - he's got an odd bandolier leash over his shoulder, so she's never not under control. But still, a dog. There's a polite knock at the front door - rapped with human knuckles. The metal hand tends to sound really weird, sometimes.
Felicia Hardy	It's with quick steps that she retreats after picking up Shammy. Up the grand staircase she goes in the time it takes Bucky to traverse the front steps outside. The sudden sound of knocking has Felicia jittering into a frozen stare of surprise on the second floor landing. Shammy stares at well, his ears perked forwards and wee whiskers scrunched forwards in curiosity. He's very life-like for a construct; he even brings himself higher up onto her shoulder with a fluid pull and rides there, perfectly balanced -- a perfect witch's familiar in turn. The thief looks over the bannister and down towards the foyer's patterned glossy floor. The blonde is not visible immediately from the front doors themselves. Oh god -- oh, what if it's a friend of Stephen? Oh god -- she needs to warn them. Still, she freezes where she stands, fretting her bottom lip and knowing the knock's been heard. As far as she's aware...new management's still on the premises.
Loki	From the upper floor moves the wizard of the hour -- in blues and wizardly red-cloaked regalia, comes Dr. Stephen Strange. Not Loki. If someone might have been anticipating the sleek god, that isn't who has made an appearance, but the image of the heroic doctor. He passes slowly down the stairs, without trailing palm on the banister, the red cloak, somehow so alive, spreading and flaring dramaticially across the stairs, as if it didn't need to work with gravity, yet also is not going so far as to defy it. "Do let them in," 'Stephen' says, with a gesture to the door, magically pulling the door open wide, to allow the noise and light of the street, and whoever is standing there knocking, full entry. "A friend of yours?"
James Barnes	Well, he's clearly not the Avon lady....or a girl scout. Buck's in plain civilian clothes - black t-shirt, faded jeans, with a compression sleeve and glove (also black, in both cases), covering the metal arm. He's got a Cyclones ball cap on, but he's taken it off when the door opens, in a reflex of old-fashioned manners. Next to him is a big German Shepherd with a coat of honey-brown and black, and a friendly expression. She smiles trustingly up into the 'Doctor's' face when the door opens, waves her tail in greeting. Hello! Buck, for his part, blinks. "Uh, hi," he says, clearly bemused. His gaze is darting, trying to take in as much of the dim environs of the Sanctum as he can - old habits die hard, and while he doesn't really expect to have to fight here, well....
Felicia Hardy	Felicia remains frozen on the second floor's bannister, out of immediate sight of whomever's spoken up at the front door. Shammy lets out a soft and curious prrrt at the appearance of Stephen. Splotches of color appear high on the thief's cheeks and her grip of the wood beneath her palms creaks ominously before she catches herself. "I...don't know," she replies sotto-voce to the image of Stephen, attempting to be civil for the moment. Her jade-green eyes glare daggers at the Sorcerer Supreme, refined as he is wearing the crimson Cloak. She knows she's being held to an aforementioned standard here and to lose her temper at the Supreme would only tarnish his -- Stephen's -- reputation. With a sharp sniff, she turns to go and gather the last of her boxes, apparently content to leave the two gentlemen to speak to one another alone, if only briefly.
Loki	"Try not to break anything on the way," requests 'Stephen', without turning to watch her. It's so hard to find good help these days, is what his tone suggests. He approaches Bucky with a curious lift of brow. He doesn't ask, but the expression does certainly expect that Bucky will describe what cookies he's trying to sell, if enough silence fills the air. There's a definite interested curiosity behind those eyes, though: this is a very interesting change of events, to Lok--err, Dr. Strange.
James Barnes	The pale eyes are utterly guileless, and there's that familiar line graven between his brows. He's looking into the 'Doctor's' face, too, without the faintest hint of recognition. "Ah, sorry to bother you," he says, politely, clearly uncertain, but not yet nervous. "I assume you're the Doctor?" The guy's dressed like he just escaped from a Renn Faire. Presumably that's what wizards wear when they're at home with their feet up. The dog is grinning, as if sure of her welcome. C'mon. Tell me how cute I am.
Felicia Hardy	'Stephen' is told, again sotto-voce, to do something entirely anatomically-impossible to himself as the thief stomps off down the hallway to her borrowed bedroom. The last box is grabbed up and then, pausing at the top of the stairs, Felicia assumes the air of a monarch: calm, collected, sangfroid. If she's being banished, she'll do it with poise. With her pale-blonde hair now pulled back into a messy bun, wisping here and there, she descends the staircase in a brisk manner. She wears a white t-shirt with grey lettering ('I NEED COFFEE', though now she wishes desperately for another bottle of wine) and cropped black yoga pants to go with her pink-and-grey sneakers. Shammy rides fearlessly on her shoulders, his tail lifted. It's about halfway across the foyer floor that she glances up and her steps slow...and then stop. Oh. Oh, this day can't get worse. It can't. Even at this distance, her jade-green eyes go wide, their darkly-lashed and lined state flawless despite her earlier tears. "...oh shit," she breathes. Shammy mrrts at the sight of the dog, curious.
Loki	"Charming," 'Stephen' observes of Felicia's suggestion of what he do to himself, cool and amused, as if there was no real offense taken at all. Perhaps that's just how Felicia is. She certainly is adding to his long-suffering look. "I am /a/ doctor," agrees Stephen with a curious, skeptical look, his gaze moving to the dog, but he doesn't seem to mind her. He does, though, shut the door; no reason for the neighborhood to stare inside at what might be about to happen. "You were looking for me, then?" As if he'd just returned from being outside, Stephen shrugs out of the magical cloak, which rises and moves off of him magically. It ghosts its way past Felicia slowly, then flips over and hangs itself up to the side. It brings less Renn Faire, and more an air of a monk from another area of of the world. He cups one hand over the other, fine, it seems, with giving Felicia time to panic.
James Barnes	And just as guileless, Buck grins. Not a chill little smile, but the full deal, bright as an incandescent bulb. That Felicia hasn't exactly reacted to his appearance with unbounded glee doesn't seem to have exactly registered yet. He waves his gloved hand in cheerful greeting. "Hey!" Then he looks back to 'Strange'. "Actually, only as a means of reaching her. She won't give me her phone number, which, y'know, I understand, people can do scary things with that information these days. But....this was the only info I had on how to contact her." The floating Cloak, however, makes him pause, gaze tracking it in puzzlement. The Shepherd, ever her human's emotional barometer, tracks it as well, her black nose working. Is that a toy? I get to chew on rags and play tug of war. Maybe I'm meant to play tug of war with it. She glances between the scarlet cloth and Bucky, hopefully.
Felicia Hardy	Great, absolutely great. The Trickster God is there, emulating her boyfriend flawlessly, and the one mortal guy she deems scary enough to earn it has just recognized her sans her catsuit. Cover: blown. Fingers uncurl from digging holes into the grocer's box to twiddle back at him and she smiles -- she does, painful as the expression might be. "Hiiiiiiiiii. Yes, I...//did// tell you this, that's right, so heeeeeeeey, let me just put this stuff down over here -- " and she scurries past the Cloak quickly, as if it made her very nervous, to set down her second box, and then beam at Bucky. "And you can go! I'll touch base with you later! I know you just got here, but now's not such a great time. Lots of changes happening -- some I didn't expect at all -- a lot I don't appreciate -- " Here slips in a flat, snarling note that evaporates quickly enough. "You can probably say it's all one hell of a big TRICK in my book. Definitely not low-key..." the thief ends up grinding out, giving Stephen another dagger-like glare.
Loki	This is actually pretty confusing for 'Stephen' about what odd meetup is going on. He folds his arms a bit more firmly, watching them both, and the array of behavior. "He only just arrived," comments 'Stephen', as Felicia attempts to get rid of Bucky so quickly. "There's no need to be rude." His sleek smile to Felicia is honest enough, but perhaps not entirely 'in character' for Stephen. It isn't like Bucky will know the difference, so what does it matter...
James Barnes	The former Soldier hasn't a clue. He senses her displeasure. "Uh, well, okay," he says, apologetically, turning the baseball cap he's holding in his hands. "Didn't mean to disturb you at home. Actually, didn't realize you lived here. I mean, not really." Buck's lips pull back in a grimace of chagrin. Then his gaze follows hers to 'Strange', and he raises his brows in sympathy. Someone is so very obviously in the dog-house.....trust his luck to have him walking in on a lovers' quarrel.
Felicia Hardy	"I don't live here anymore. Somebody -- " Felicia stops herself up so sharply that even Shammy at her shoulder gives her a look. The thief's shoulders quiver. Her eyes cut from Bucky to 'Stephen' and linger, narrowing slowly. "New management has taken over. The Doctor's not the man I used to know." She gives Bucky a smile that certainly doesn't reach her eyes. "I was wrong before, you know...about what we discussed." Now her smile trembles, just a little, and my god is she playing for the sympathy card in fogey old Barnes, raised as he was back when. "It's...definitely a low-key thing," she repeats. Shammy headbutts her ear, still purring.
Loki	Stephen gives Felicia a look that would be appropriate to give to a poodle that you have been trying to potty train for months but it just will not learn -- but it's so damn cute you have to laugh. In fact, he laughs at her, one hand lifting to press against his nose and left cheek, and wiping a tear from that eye. Maybe even a real tear. Because he looks at her again, and the laugh just keeps going, sort of in a helpless manner. "Do forgive me. Just ludicrous, your version of subtle. Mmm." He clears his throat, looks at Felicia again. ....and then resumes the laughter, turning away partially, patting his free hand on the bannister. The laughter isn't forced: he really appears actively entertained, to a high degree. It isn't mocking, necessarily, he just seems stuck in a cycle of rather good-natured amusement.
James Barnes	Oh, this is a breakup. This is terrible, terrible timing. While Buck isn't the soul of chivalry to the extent that Steve is, he's still got some of it left. His gaze cuts back to her. "Oh, uh, damn. Did you need help moving your stuff out?" Where will she even go? He has at least one safehouse he could metaphorically burn for her sake. Perfectly comfortable, if you don't mind sleeping on a canvas cot with no modern conveniences beyond a perfectly maintained sniper rifle dialled in on one of the Avengers' Mansion's doors. Steve's forgiven him for the attempted murder thing, after all. He nods. "Yeah? I kinna figured - I was meaning to ask you if you wanted me to look a little further into him. I mean, I'm not one of the guys who knows a lot about mystical stuff, but I've got access to some records and.....well, even ordinary people do manage to get away from him in one way or another, sometimes." He doesn't know the whys or wheretofors, so he doesn't give 'Strange' any accusing looks. Just moves to help Felicia, coming over with his hands out, Cyclones cap back on his head, the dog padding at his side. Once he's confident she can see his face but Strange can't, he mouthes, silently, "What. An. Asshole."
Felicia Hardy	Felicia puts that trembling red-red lower lip into an all-star showing, allowing her eyes to fill with tears that aren't feigned as she watches the Sorcerer laugh. She stoops to pick up the grocer's box, leaving the other for Bucky to pick up given his apparent offering of assistance. She nods sharply at him and mouths back, "Trickster. God." That being mouthed at Barnes, she straightens herself and gives 'Stephen' a final hard look. "You're going to regret this," the thief announces. "And I'm going to be laughing when the tables are turned." Reaching out with a hand towards the doorknob, she pauses and then looks back at him. "And you couldn't work a Harlequin romance novel with that stupid frilly shirt even if you screwed your agent." Shammy chirps and flicks his tail as if to echo her point. Felicia then pulls on the doorknob. And finds it locked. She rattles it again and stares at it. Oh god.
Loki	'Dr. Strange' has since taken a seat on the stairs, because he's laughing, but seems to have recovered. "Now, hold on, Felicia. I want to hear from our new friend here. Please, share. What is the /best way/ to get away, 'sometimes'?" 'Stephen' asks. He's gotten a hold of himself, the laughter has ebated, though he's clearly having to make an effort to contain it. Still, better to laugh than cry, maybe. And to be interested in what Bucky has to say. "For those of us that just can't seem to resist him, or repeatedly fall for his traps, that is. Because you are constantly under his spell, it seems."
James Barnes	So, it is slow to filter through. It is. But her silent reply has something beyond recognition dawning. It's not just the realization that he's been tricked - how many myriads of times has Loki seen that look, on faces of all races and sexes, in so many different times? No, it's the way the light behind the blue eyes changes. Goes cold and calculating, even as his hand unfastens the leash, hands it off to her. Then he's turning back to Stephen, pacing towards him with lazy deliberation, as the dog looks concerned. "Hope you get bored. Call in a bigger, opposing power. Beat you at your own game. Make a deal you actually honor. I'm one favor down, but I've still got one to owe. Want another one? Want the tally back up to two?"
Felicia Hardy	Felicia's box gets dropped as she presses herself flat to the locked front door. Shammy scrambles briefly at her shirt, but she gathers him up again, staring wide-eyed at 'Stephen'. "Fuck you," she whispers fiercely at the Sorcerer even as she begins working up her cloud of tychokinesis about herself. It gets abruptly sucked away and out of influencing her immediate aura as she stares down at the leash in Bucky's hand. Taking it, she realizes he's going to approach instead of remaining back by her. Wait, what is this, bargaining...?! "No...no-no-no, soldier, no!" the thief hisses, taking a step away from the door without dropping the lead.
Loki	'Stephen' watches them both. He laughs into his hand a once more, then clears his throat. He looks at Bucky for a long moment, and then begins to ...fade out. His illusory form of Stephen Strange just begins to simply disappear into nothing. There is promptly no real target to be angry at, as the elusive illusionist lets the Stephen Strange illusion disappear. However, there's certainly no real question to whether he's there or not: of /course/ he's listening to what Bucky is proposing.
James Barnes	Apparently not. Buck shrugs, turns back to Felicia. "How long has he been in charge here?" Not particularly upset, not yet. There's that matter of factness to his tone. Yeah, they're in trouble, but....the question is how much. A beat, and he asks, taking the leash back, "And do you have any means of reaching the real deal?"
Felicia Hardy	Felicia shakes her head upon seeing the Trickster God vanish. It continues shaking even as Bucky walks over and retrieves his leash from her nearly nerveless fingers. "I need to find him -- Stephen," she murmurs as she adjusts Shammy, who's apparently trying to crawl into her t-shirt at the most inopportune time. "He -- I need to find him! Loki, he's been here for a day, only a day!" She tries the door handle yet again even as she stoops to snag the edge of her grocer's box, intent on dragging the box out of the Sanctum one way or another, apparently. It's her stuff, after all! Nobody keeps her stuff but her!
Loki	All of the floor of the sanctum starts to move. It is a sort of slow, oozing sensation, as if all of it were sinking in a slow spin. It turns towards a mire, as reality starts to bend, and magic causes the tiles of wood to flip and rotate, each of them as if spun all along the floor like a series of dominoes. The panels spin upwards and begin to fly in all directions, slapping each other, in a cacophony, as a heartbeat of hellish heat vibrates underfoot. There's no taunting, just a sudden hell on earth, as the very room tries to swallow them downwards into a gullet of pulsing, earthy, darkened blistering heat.
James Barnes	Winter Soldier's immediate response is to bend down and heave the dog up over his shoulder, like a lion tamer in the circus carrying his favorite leopard around. He doesn't trust the leash to hold, it seems. Then he's grabbing the Black Cat's wrist, trying to get all three of them to the possible safety of the stairs. His expression isn't frightened or shocked. It's a kind of nothing, like he'll feel whatever he's feeling about this later.
Felicia Hardy	Felicia lets out a sustained 'eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!' sound that would do any frightened guinea pig justice. Forget the door and forget the box, the Sanctum's upturning itself?! With the solid grip about her wrist, she goes along with the immediate reaction of the Soldier and his beeline for the stairs. It makes sense, even as she winces and ducks shards of flooring that crackle and clatter like bones in a jar. Still, her knee-jerk reaction falls back to her tychokinesis: after all, the Trickster God did cross the Black Cat's path. Unfortunately -- fortunately? -- it does influence the immediate magical resonance around them and... ...hold onto your butts, kids -- and the dog and the cat -- -- because gravity inverts to affect both animals and humans alike, Bucky and Felicia, to stick them firmly to the Sanctum's ceiling in an abrupt escape from the hellacious maelstrom below. Felicia's now crouching on the ceiling and staring at Bucky. "...I'm sorry?!" she squeaks.
Loki	At Felicia's ear comes a whisper, of magical voice flung up to her: "Let's see what happens when I try to /heal/ you, what your chaos does with that. I'm curious, seeing as it's opposite day." In the middle of the rupturing floor, the stairs also move, curling like an insane tongue from a twisted dream of Tim Burton, as if to work to fling Bucky backwards into hell. But he's on the ceiling, so that mostly just LICKS at the air. And then there's Loki. He's reappeared, as himself, floating in the center of the sanctum, then standing on that strange tongue of stairs. The 'space' of the Sanctum explodes outwards, into a size nearing a football stadium, yet it isn't. The space exists, and doesn't exist. It is a frenzy of magic. If they fell, it would be a LONG fall. "The previous Supreme did not even test the sanctum; I have done more with it in a day, I would say, than he ever did," comments Loki sweetly. He is dressed modern, none of the Rennfaire garb, a slick black and emerald long coat, stylishly tailored, the collar lifted against his roguishly curled black hair, loose and down at shoulder. It makes his skin set off a stark pale tone, that the magic of the room causes to glow with an inhuman, vibrant ecstacy. Loki's a visual masterpiece when he actively means to be, certainly not human. "I'll give you the answer you should have started with," Loki continues. "/How/ to 'get away' from Loki." He clucks his tongue against the inside of his teeth, backlit like a god of torture by the billowing floor of heat below. "Grovel." He lifts his eyes to the ceiling. He gives them a small smile and lift of one shoulder. "But sometimes a deal can be wrought. What do you want, in trade for owing me more?"
James Barnes	Buck's encountered the mystical, now and again. Many a strange incident in the war - just ask him about the time he fed a squalling red baby demon a ration chocolate bar. This, however, is vastly beyond the pale - being stuck to the ceiling like this is Wonderland. He's still got his grip on the dog, who, while whimpering with fear, is true to her training and doesn't bite. Felicia, however, gets a bewildered look. "Is this you, or him?" There's something like wonder in his eyes, now. This is....it's scary and confusing, but it's not the substance of his nightmares. And Loki hasn't yet brought to bear the one threat that breaks him. In fact, Buck peers at him. "Is that all?" He's not being sarcastic. He's genuinely curious. It doesn't seem like much....and as he once told Peggy, he has no particular pride left. A lifetime as HYDRA's slave was enough to burn any pretensions out of him. "Like....kneeling or full-face prostrations? Hell, I'll bow down, if that's what makes you happy." And before Felicia can reply, he says, "Let her go. Free, unfollowed, where-ever she wants to."
Felicia Hardy	"...both?" Felicia squeaks back to Bucky. Shammy, construct that he is, merely continues clinging to her shoulder. This is all normal to him because what's normal to a construct? Anything. He mrowls at Lili, as if to reassure her that this is perfectly fine, just a walk in the park -- albeit an inverted Lewis Caroll's acid trip. Bucky does, in fact, beat her to her reply to the Trickster God, incredibly rude as it would have been. She then lets out a confounded sound. "Stop it, STOP! STOP RIGHT NOW! No, you -- don't -- " It's still safer to crouch on the ceiling instead of trying to stand because her brain can't process that well enough right now.
Loki	Loki gives Bucky a double-take. He glanced at him then actually looked back. And then laughs. It's an open, relaxed laugh, no murder in it. "/I/ think I'm entirely reasonable with the grovel requirement; It's nice to finally find someone that sees that it truly isn't so much." Loki watches the ceiling for a long moment. "Stop your terrified twisting, pet. Let his bargain for your life and freedom not be wasted," Loki says. He gestures with both hands, calling to the Sanctum again, attempting to open a hole in the ceiling 'under' (above?) her, to pop her out into the front street. Surely a cat will land on her feet? That's a thing cats do. Inside, Loki then draws one hand back, and puts into reverse everything that just happened, at about quadruple speed. Meaning, the plummet to the ground and the rearranging of the floor might be a little vomit-inducing.
James Barnes	It is intensely dizzying, even for a supersoldier. The childhood rides on the Cyclone have nothing on it. Buck manages to sling Lili into the shelter of his curled up body and take most of the impact and roll on the alloy shoulder and arm. He only comes up to his one knee, though, not standing, the arm still around the dog. She's crouched, whimpering, and he's trying to reassure her. But he looks up at Loki, worried. "I mean.....if that's what you're into. You know, if you really do enjoy it, there are clubs in this city where people would actually like to do it for you. You're good looking enough you wouldn't even have to pay. Just show up in some variant of that whole leather thing you seem to like." Honestly offered advice. If all Loki needs to salve some of his baser instincts is people being his slaves.....Craigslist is there for him. Think of all the superheroic crises that could be averted. "Hell, if you need it unwilling.....well, we can go there." Worse has been done to him without him getting anything out of it....and Loki could make it a moot point any moment he chose.
Felicia Hardy	"I SAID N -- EEEP!" Quick reflexes are all that save her from both the sudden gaping hole in the ceiling and then the inversion of the Sanctum's around them back to its original gleaming, quiet, non-hellish state. Of course, Felicia lands on her feet. Shammy is looking a bit frazzled now, clinging to her like a burr and stretching her shirt collar beyond saving. She rises up to stand fully once more, swaying like a bridge in a windstorm, before she gives Bucky another nauseated side-glance. "//STOP ENCOURAGING HIM?!!?!?//" There's no effort made to hide the spittle-flecked reprimand at the soldier.
Loki	SIGH. Loki gives Bucky a stare. "I didn't say that was what I was after. I said that is something that, if done honestly, has /good/ probability to cause me to let you leave. At least make an attempt to listen," Loki shakes his head slightly, as if to despair of the human race. Nobody listens. "I have groups devoted to my /worship/," adds the god, somewhat indifferently. He's well aware of how to get whatever thing, clearly. "But back to the deal. Done. If she manages to find the exit, at any rate." Loki suddenly looks at the dog, in a way that might cause hearts to sink into shoes. "Also, did you bring her here to torture her?" Loki asks. He extends a flick of magic, a light purple colored little 'blit' of a glow, aiming a quick soothing spell at the dog, to magically relax her panic. He's not a monster.
James Barnes	The look Bucky turns on her is impatient. Not panicked, just kind of annoyed. So sick of stubborn blonds who just don't have the sense God gave geese. Even if she's a lot prettier than Steve. "How's that hissing defiance thing working for you, sister? I'm not the one encouraging him, if you hadn't noticed. You gonna take what I just tried to buy for you? How 'bout it? You coulda been on your merry way. What're you gonna get here?" He shakes his head. "No, put her out. It doesn't depend on her. She won't go, no deal." Buck shrugs. "Fair enough. I used'a read the stories about you we had here, when I was a kid." The spell hitting the dog makes him clench, though, moving to try and take what he thinks is the hit. There's an outraged look for a moment, and he strokes a hand over the glossy fur. But she seems to've been hit with nothing worse than doggy Xanax. "No. I didn't imagine you'd be here. Didn't figure this would be that scary." Speaking of which - for all his attempts at calm, Buck's pale and sweating himself. Just kind of holding the aftermath off by main force, for now.
Felicia Hardy	Under her breath, the thief grumbles, "Ooooohhhhhhh!" Felicia grimaces as she untangles Shammy from her t-shirt. It takes a bit of time, given he's squirming everywhere, murrrring in irritation at her for her attempt. "Look -- cat -- stop -- ow -- ow, claws -- my //shirt// -- Shammy, I liked this shirt -- " She misses the majority of the conversation between the Trickster God and the soldier due to this, but what she doesn't miss is how the latter isn't looking so composed anymore. Shammy MROWLS a final time as he's held out and then brought back to her chest. "You're being an IDIOT, bargaining with -- !!!" This time, the slippery pit to Albuquerque doesn't fail. Felicia lets out a startled yelp and then lands on her butt on the sidewalk outside at the base of the steps. Thump one and two are her boxes, one upright and the other falling to its side, tipping her sundries to the sidewalk. With a snarl, she ignores this to smack off the front door and tug at the handles. Words escape her. Shammy just MREEEEEROWRS!
Loki	The Sanctum just lets her beat on the doors and yell as much as she likes. It is indifferent to her concerns about bargains. Inside, Loki restores everything. The place returns to it's sort of awkwardly comfortable museum-like quality. Loki walks calmly across the floor towards where Bucky is, and extends curled fingers to the dog, as if everything were fine. Maybe it is. "You're welcome, then," Loki says, relaxed, with a tilt of head to cause his hair to move to the other side of his neck. His expression is dangerous: because it's playful. The power of the sanctum is a fun new toy. And new toys are best when 'shared'.
James Barnes	Once upon a time, he had a very, very playful handler. One who saw the Asset as not only a weapon and a tool, but a toy. An amateur, compared to the being standing before him now, but....what he learned is enough to have him say, without further prompting, "Thanks." Again, there's no sarcasm. The dog isn't whimpering and crouching, but she's still subdued, sniffing at the offered fingers tentatively. Buck hasn't risen from his taken knee. Loki said grovelling might well be on the agenda....and if he wants James to rise, he can say so.
Felicia Hardy	Felicia continues beating on the door for at least a few seconds more before she realizes she's not getting anywhere -- or even denting the wood, what is this madness?! The thief lets out a final creaking sound of rage, kicks at the door for good measure, and then turns to stomp down the steps. Her things are gathered up into the upturned box again. Helpful passersby are shooed away with sharp hand-motions and Shammy squirrels himself away into a box, knowing that he's fairly obvious with his coat pattern. It falls to Felicia to call an Uber and head back to her apartment. Words ring in her mind from the true Sorcerer Supreme, about choice and honoring it. Barnes made his choice. She makes hers: To find the real deal and bring him home.