July 8th, 2014: Following the events of The White Tiger Gambit and Black Cat escape their Yakuza pursuers to encounter a new threat, Catwoman. (Some language)


Knight Park



Mood Music:

The Baihu heist was a success. Sort of. At this point in time Gambit is shot, wounded and bleeding out but refuses to go to a hospital. So where better than Selena's Tin Roof Club and who better than to make sure he gets there than his new friend , Felicia Hardy. Hunched over the front of the motorcycle the man's body is slackened to the point it requires Felicia to keep him upright so they don't spill across the now Gotham streets (the bridges between Gotham and NYC having been passed through fairly quickly), "You be likin' my friend, chere. She kinda reminds me of you." A strained grin falls off quickly as they round another corner street, the Yakuza they'd stolen the White Tiger statue from not ones to give up but the rogues have shaken them off their tail, at least for now.

Still, Felicia pouted, a missed opportunity was a missed one, there were no two shakes about it. Whatever was in that safe had to be left alone and forgotten, no matter how much it'll nag at her good nature. The way she held onto him, arms under his own, planted in the middle of his chest with a grip that presses against his chest to keep him upright and her at his back didn't seem as it was cozy. In fact, that awkward positioning was a pain in her ass as much as it was in his arm, but at least she served as a backboard for him to keep straight and up against.
"Is that right? Is that why you went through all of that trouble to get those little trinkets?" Her little trinkets, of course. "You could have said it was for a woman, I would have given it up right away. No need for contests, I enjoy little romantic gestures that I'm not apart of." Or apart of, either way. She was still a girly girl.

The Club won't be allowed to be reached quite yet, from along the gargoyle perched statues the shadows shift, one of the gargoyles coming to life with the primordial shifting disassociation of its shadow, a flash of silver and just in front of Knight Park on the road before the motorcycle, silver balls roll across the cement and from behind an eruption of flame walls upward to force them to a stop or to hopefully veer to where they had no option but to stop lest they go through wrought iron fencing.

No matter the case on the opposing side of the wall of the flames the silhouette of a felinesque form reflects the orange glow of light back, her tail flicking back and forth annoyedly across the pavement…
"Did I say it was for a woman? Remy forgets these things. I just know I wanted it and I tink I forgot it was for a woman when I laid eyes upon you, belle femme." The Cajun's bizarre candor in a situation like this had to be respected. It's also unfortunately the behavior of a lech, perhaps it's his injury. Who can say.
About to say more in regards to the comfortable cushy additions to his motorcycle he is forced to cease any words as jets of flame burst forth from those silver trinkets littering the road. A groan to grunt sound of discomfort escaping Gambit as the bike is forced in to an abrupt halt that has him lurching forward roughly, free of Felicia's supportive grip. "We got some company. More Yakuza already?"

"You didn't have to. It's something that you -could- sell for a pretty penny, but it has sentiments to it. When you mentioned her, t'was confirmed." She held on tightly.. especially once she noticed that blood streaked her white hair. Tight nearly became murderous but she had to remember, this guy helped her escape from the Yakuza. How easily she could have flew away in the night, at least before any of the good ones come. Or.. would they?
She gave a cursory glance towards the rooftops just to ease her paranoia, until the row of flames happened along with the jerk of the bike. She was starting to get annoyed. Free from being a proverbial backboard, she reaches into her top to remove her mask, plastering it haphazardly to her face with a roll of her eyes. "Ah-noy-ying!" She sounded out, easing from the bike as easily as she hopped onto it. Like liquid. It was the shadow of the cat that caught her attention, a brow raised, clawed hand reaching up to lightly scratch at the back of her scalp. The wig seriously itches!
She had to double check too. With a quick look behind at her ass, she had to make sure that she didn't have a tail, she even touches the top of her head to look for ears and paw at her figure to make sure the measurements of the shadow didn't match her own.

It took one moment, that "tail" still flicking in a coil that snapped across the pavement and then coiled up only to crack downward and out. Splitting between the tongues of flames that black leather tail sounds like lightning, the very tips of split whips end stopping just before Felicia's reach to her crown in search for ears. A warning strike that recoils just as quickly as it came, but returns to the synthetically clad woman standing just before Remy on their side of the flames as they already begin to die.

Emerald gaze cuts from Remy to Fel in a narrowing set that shifts to slivers, her upper lip curling to spare a flash of ivories in the other woman's direction.

"An easy little heist turns disastrous and the bad luck comes in riding valiantly.." Oh yes, Catwoman knew… A bit too late but knew and was waiting.
"Ah well dis be awkward." Remy says coyly, "I dun recall seein' no Yakuza lookin' like you." The mutant's jacket slings back and a card slides forth, a card that begins to light up. "I suggest you bes' be gettin' out of our way - this ch'ere dun involve you or your frien' Blackmask. " Spoiler alert… Gambit has no idea Selina Kyle is the Catwoman. The one time he encountered 'Catwoman' was when he took a job for one of Gotham's crime lords. "Friendly warning before tings turn unfriendly." Tipping his head back he whispers to Felicia, "If I fall over you got to protect me. I'm feelin' a bit… eh woozy."

Confusion, she didn't know this woman and it was apparent that Remy didn't either. She had half the mind to say something but.. half of her mind went to the firewall and thoughts of where she could get something equally as cool.. however, she didn't intend to use it to trap. Only to flee. "Hope you aren't here to get the prize." Felicia was immediately on the defense. She had to give up going into a safe just to get away clean with some silly jeweled kittens, so she'll be damned if some tight booty kittengirl came to take what.. well.. okay, so none of it was theirs. She should just shrug it off and go.
"Cause you'll be in for a rude awakening." And a boot up her ass. "It's his, for a lady, I sacrificed to get that and.." Okay, no she did.. wait.. her Jimmy Chos. Fuck'it all to hell. Just remembering that caused her face to contort into pain as she steps forward, rounding off the side of the bike to create a close knit triangle.
"You're fine, Remy Boo-Boo." She's such a dick.

No, he had no idea, and wouldn't it make for a twist… But no, she was not one to peel back the mask just yet. The card flicking to a glow caused a reaction, a lift of both brows that pulled up the corners of her lips, a Mona Lisa smile to mask something else… Realization.

"You seem to think I work for anyone but me'self, monsieur. You may want to keep that Ace up your sleeve for your lady friend here or your own wound… You're bleeding on your paint job. /Tsssk./" Now that gaze snaps towards Felicia and just as quickly as her eyes moved the rest of her body followed, hands curling at her sides and then when fingers splayed the metallic claws as she lunged at the woman. "If it's not mine in the end, by all means, wake me up."

Queue the sounds of cats fighting in an alley, it's on.
The card is loosed but it's a sloppy throw and Remy lets out a sound of pain as his arm slings out only to draw back in, the injury is causing his aim to clearly fall way off. Way off to the left of Catwoman as the card hits a park bench and erupts in a geyser deep purple energy shrapnel launched in all directions. Gambit himself looks defeated before the fighting has even begin, "Dun die chere. I be needin' you." He says to Felicia. Still a lecherous bastard but he also may not just be talking about the expected, he is bleeding quite a bit. At this point he really can't drive himself. "You can keep de Baihu if you get us out o' dis in one piece." He assures her. "You jus' owe me a dinner and maybe a move instead."

Spectacular. Felicia was about to get herself into another fight, by the gods this was getting half annoying. She already walked around barefoot sans pregnant after losing Jimmy at the night club, along with her tiny complimentary Kors bag that went with the other slew of outfits that would make Olivia Pope look like a bum, but hey.. she's got more right? She's filthy. Filthy rich.
The quick movement from Catwoman caused her to shuffle back, her arms drawing up and fists lightly curled to take on a 30's boxing stance, one hand out further than the other, knuckles forward. That continuous shuffle backward was made with intent to draw her away from Remy, as well as to give time for things to go well in her favor. This mojo that she was working may as well go bad for either of them during the fight. Sure, it's controlled, but there was a tiny hope that Remy would knock himself out so that his mouth could stay shut, just for a wee lil while.
Those quick movements gave them distance enough for Fels to strike, planting her left foot to the ground to quickly whip and strike out with the right. It would be one of those lazy ass side kicks to get the fight going, to transfer the line of defense to offense.

The explosion set by Remy's long flying card set the pace, started the spark that her dying flames no longer had in their tiny trail along the road, dying out but enough to reflect that duality of ignitions in the tinted lenses of goggles.

Black Cat's kick makes contact in the blurring speed Catwoman is seeking to close the distance, though swiftly as it lands her body moves with the kick to try and lessen the blow while her hand comes up, attempting to grip her leg and /dig/ those claws into her calf for an anchor - if she gets a hold her body is already twisting to grapple and try to throw her to the ground.

"I'll gladly make you two neighbors at the local hospital." Her voice now bordering on a hiss.

The concept of driving the motorcycle injured like Remy is, is quite futile. He knows when to cut and run, right now is one of those times he just needs to take a moment and rest, the bike being slumped against a lamppost he as well slides down it and presses a cigarette between his lips, lighting up to take a long drag as he watches the two women engage in a Kill Bill fight sequence, "No worries, belle femme, I'll cheer you on from here. Just have to take it easy a minute or t'ree." Also enjoy the show.
Another long drag and he blows out a smoke ring in the form of a heart that overlaps the fighting felines. Well, from his perspective. It's just a simple smoke ring after all.

Ow. Nails hurt as they dug deep into her flesh. If she would have paid any more attention than needed, it would almost seem as if this lady was attempting to hamstring her ass. And that was no good. How was she to walk with that eye grabbing sway if she had a gimp limp? Not cool at all. But being caught and tossed may have seemed like a victory, if Felicia wasn't quick enough to try to capture that hand, calf betwixt calf. She wasn't going to go down alone.
If gazes could sting, or if she were even facing the proper way, she'd probably try to find a nice, heavy rock to toss at Remy's noggin. He could at least -help- a little, but no, he's puffing tar. Hope the slow rot of myristaldehyde kills you babe! Love, Black Cat.

Clever girl… Catwoman's hooked claws seek to release and follow through on the throw but her hand is caught betwixt calves, bringing her into her own throw, going down with the force of momentum as well as Black Cat's body weight.

With that one hand trapped and heading towards cement sidewalk, once solidity is had she uses it to one-handed cartwheel, her other hand coming down to grip Black Cat's hair just before her attempted acrobatic rise, trying to use the force of a new impending wound to aid in getting her wrist free without having to wrench it too much.

Don't die Remy, that'd take the fun out of later!

Remy's eyes drift from the fighting and his own smoke rings to stare down at the blood that is trickling down his wrist. He supposes when you start to go cold and numb it's usually a bad thing. A drift upwards of this red on black orbs and he watches the two women battling again, this time they're entwined in some Judo throw mishap that seems to entangle them both. Alright so parts of him are not entirely numb and nonworking. A low chuckle escapes him before another long, low drag is given, oh sweet nicotene.
Idly he wonders where the GCPD is right now, those leg breakers would love to show up to something like this. If not them definitely the SRD, he's heard horror stories of Gotham's SRD. New York's region is rather harsh on mutants in particular but people who encounter the SRD of Gotham tend to just vanish. Scary thought that there.

The sharp pain in her leg was enough for her to release the captured hand mid cartwheel, the grip to her hair felt and with a quick little tug.. her wig comes right off. "Ha." She chirps out, curling up enough so that she could spin on her ass, all legs a-flail as she aims for the ankles to bring the leather clad woman down to her level.
In the turn, a glance towards the leaning Remy is given. It was a brief one, one that couldn't really assess the state that he was currently in. She had to end this fast, the poor guy was bleeding out and there was a diamond cat on the line as well, though.. surely she cared more about human life than a trinket.. yes? No? Two for two.

Catwoman is coming up with what looks like a Yorkie in clawed grip. No scalp, and this has her hand flailing to be rid of the netted fur, ripping some of the weave out as a final flail sends it sailing to lie like roadkill in the road by the small blackened path of dead flames.

The spinning legs are caught in periphery as she is mid-turn to go back at Black Cat, catching a glimpse of Remy just before…

Leaping upward she attempts to grip one of those ankles and -jerk- Black Cat just a smidgen enough to cease her follow through while Catwoman is coming down to land. If successful her landing will have Black Cat on her back looking up at Catwoman who lands in a position that firmly plants her hand beside the spill of new white hair from Black Cat's head, her other hand drawn back with strands of the wigs hair still caught in the claws, but now is firmly clamped around the coil of her whip. On either side of Black cat's hips booted feet are planted, one tucked in, the other out in a martial artist's poise to keep her hovering just barely above the other femme.

Leaning down Black Cat would see her own reflection and then the clarity of green gaze snapping from her to Remy.

"Stay away from what's mine." She means East End, Gotham, the jeweled kittens, the Club. Only room for one cat, but this one's bent moral compass is not about to let Remy bleed out.

Quickly the whip uncoils and drops beside Black Cat's head, leather brushing her cheek just before it is flicked upward and Catwoman is attempting to race towards Remy's slumping form.

"Aw nice, thats nice. No, I don't want to be a Jedi lets just keep watching the kitties…" A murmur and Remy's head drops, the cigarette rolls from his lip to trickle down his chest in a trail of ash that stops in his lap both hands palms up opening in a relaxed state as he goes unconscious, looking like one of those old Western death scenes as he lies there under the street lamp with the slumped Harley. Chest rising and falling the man isn't dead but he sure as hell isn't conscious anymore.
The ankle yank was enough for her to stop, her hair sliding against the pavement which would make for an interesting shower back at her house. Gravel and blood, mixed in with bits of her black hair and white wig that was so cruelly snatched from her head. Teeth were soon clenched her fingers tensing at a threatening angle but something within her told her not to do it. Sure, she was about to have cats liver for dinner but.. as Catwoman looks away, Black Cat does as well, just in time to see Remy slump. "Oh no.." She manages to mutter out, mingled in with the warning from Catwoman which.. was duly noted. She understood territory. However, this stray was about to leave a stink in her cheerios that would last for days.
She did nothing but flinch a little as the whip was flicked upward, remaining upon the ground as Catwoman gets a decent distance away. With a roll to her shoulders and a snap kick up, she lands at a crouch on both feet to turn, her arm striking out to slice at the air, the grappling hooks hidden beneath furs striking out at a surprising speed.
Normally, she'd aim for the fleeing felon, but nope. It went right to that beautiful, blood stained Harley. The hooks dig in at the right place, cause.. Black Cat Bitch is awesome, and with her superhuman strength she tugs; tugs so quick that it was such a blur that probably could have been stopped by the likes of them. The woman laid claim to what was hers. Sure, it probably meant the kitten, the man she's rushing after, the city.. whatever place she was heading out to.. but who needs a bike when you have a perfectly, healthy, strong kitten to carry you around? Plus, she means to get out of dodge and fast.
As the Harley slid sideways, Felicia jumped upon it's saddle and revved it up. With a screech and a skirch, she was heading back towards that goddamned club that the Yakuza owned, cause the bridge to New York was kinda that way.

Catwoman lays no claim to any person, just as no one ever should lay claim to her, though many do, but more-so with a price on her pretty little head.

Her run picks up, uncaring of Black Cat taking the bike, but also unknowing of the prize's placement, it may have caused her to hesitate, but… She didn't.

One arm sweeps out and wraps around Remy's torso, clinging him to her, her other hand still entwined in that whip that serves as an anchored grapple where it held upon a lamp post, aiding in her rise against gravity with speed and leverage, taking her smoothly up the side of one building to its roof and to disappear.

Pausing on the rooftop she adjust her carriage of Remy and unzips her suit only slightly, enough to reach within and withdraw a cell phone. Dialing she puts it to her ear as the whips snaps back to her grip in recoil.

"Track the GPS, meet me there, bring Rant. Fast." Only so far and so long she can carry a man's weight like that… Just enough to show off.

Standing she looks down at Black Cat and narrows her gaze, the sneer only lasting long enough to mask effort when she picks Remy up again and runs the expanse of rooftops to get him to medical attention.

This isn't over, especially when she finds out she doesn't have the magpie special.

Back to: RP Logs

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 License