Is That the B(r)est You Got?

Summary:
August 3rd, 2014: Another claws out encounter between Black Cat and Catwoman. Cameo by Remy LeBeau. (Lots of language, violence and some innuendo)

Tin Roof Club, East End, Gotham

Selina Kyle's club in the East End.


Characters

NPCs

  • Spectators
  • Keith

Mood Music:
[*<http://insert.video.or.music.link.here>]


On a good and normal day, Felicia was patient. She was cunning, patient, sometimes kind, but hell. She had a monkey on her back in the form of a cat, and like most cats, you either get along and share the meow mix or slash and snarl like crazy and cause a rift. The rift, that would be.. Felicia stays out of Gotham and in New York; she was a world class girl and every city was her proverbial litter box.

It was a wonder at how she got the keep Belle Ro Laren as she so happily called her, roaring down the Interstate, breaking many a traffic laws just to reach the Dark City to deal with an ol' rival. It was bad for business, that is. Having someone looking for you, and you watching over your shoulder to avoid a whip around your neck. 'Sides, that woman was kind of cool, where'd she get those toys?

The bike roars into Gotham, the beast full of gas and oiled up and ready for a show. If the woman was smart and all knowing as she thinks, she would know that the Black Cat has crossed her borders. Right at the edge in front of some unknown club, she begins to create a racket, revving the engine as loud as she could, causing it to skirt and plane into a perfect circle which creates a thick smog of burnt rubber and exhaust.

Delicious.

Catwoman knows, perhaps not when that bridge is crossed, nor when she weaves through the dark streets, but the moment she enters East End, as well as before that Club.

The display cannot contain a frown, Catwoman rises upon the Tin Roof and a smile splits those lips as the zipper is pulled upward on her suit, sealing it up and over the slight show of red and black brassiere. In her other hand that whip rests, not looped around her hips, those split tails resting along the metal surface, flicked to life with a quick snap of her wrist that sends the tightly wrapped leather out and around the metal of a lamp-post.

*Crack!*

A running leap takes Catwoman from the roof, sailing across the night air towards the display Black Cat is making, attempting to sweep her off that motorcycle with capture betwixt her thighs around her torso to try and bring her to the ground.

Reckless.

If she were to chose a different name for herself, it would have been just that. No, it would have been aptly named Reckless With A Purpose or possibly Touched in a Head or She Who Has Death Wish. Whatever! It was all in the good name of fun, but if Catwoman were to lose an eye? Fantastic! Its not like she held a grudge against the woman, but.. fucking with each other was the new way of talking and they were about to have an in depth, spiritual conversation. Life and shit. Babies and what not. Coo-coo.

The crack of the whip was the first to get her attention, through the smoke she created she saw the sight of well toned thighs heading towards her person. Well toned leathery thighs, or was that plether. Whatever! Selina may have been too quick for Felicia to even think about what she would have done in that situation, so scooped up she was. Hands at a near flail in which one wraps around her waist, the other hand striking out towards the now nearing lamp post on the opposite side of the street so that her grappling hook could strike out and wind around it's neck.

A loud grunt is heard from the Bride with the White Hair (cool movie, you guys should watch) and with a twist of her hips, she intends to send them both crashing into the brick building across the street so they could share in the love of circular Tweeties and whistles.

The line in front of the Tin Roof goes silent, eyes all turning as well as bodies as the doors are suddenly closed, the two large men manning them saying nothing but keeping guard while the velvet ropes that line the front are pressed against and the fight becomes their entertainment, lights of phone cameras flickering, capturing…

Capturing the woman and sweeping her off her… motorcycle… Wait, was that..? Nahhh. Couldn't be Remy's. Catwoman's upper lip curls as that fall seems to take an eternity, or was it the fact a new path is being chosen by the grapple of Black Cat's now carrying them to the side instead of down.

Catwoman twines her legs around Black Cat's torso, gripping her shoulder and twisting her body like a felines in fall to bring them both into the building, impacting on their sides equally, the breath hammered from her lungs as she slid down like a Looney Toon, sinking to her knees.

It is only a moment though, her body knowing better then to wait and catch a breath. Inhale. Catwoman is on all fours. Exhale. One leg kicks back, the metallic shine of an improvised 'claw' in her boot slashing out in a sweep toward where Black Cat had lain… Inhale.

"Bitch."

Exhale.

We cannot forget about Belle Ro Laren. Poor girl. Poor metal girl, she was taking a right fucking in this fight. That sweep had her clanging to the ground with a bent bar that would make any rider fall to his knees and cry in the rain.

"Why god why!?!" They would say.

But baby Jesus wouldn't dare answer the call with these two bitches around.

The crash into the wall was expected, she braced herself and tensed her muscles at the right time of impact, her eyes snapping shut in momentary loss of conscious until the fall to her knees woke her up. At the risk of breaking the forth, that shit hurts. Makes you wanna vomit. Painful! But what was done was done, the grappling hook began to whirr and retract and whip around as that swipe kick sends her twirling to the ground. Short distance that. The unused hook in her opposing wrist striking out in a moment of dirty dog fighting with an aim straight to her face.

"Ya fucking cunt!"

The kick lands and as soon as Catwoman feels the weight of the other thrown back her body kicks up and over, legs cartwheeling and her spine bowing in the gymnasts display of mobility, bringing her back to a stand, goggle covered eyes peering back towards Black Cat just in time to catch sight of the grappling hook redirected.

That'll mess a girls reflection up good, and with a sharp pivot to the side she is missed by the cast, but it is the recoil, the tension snapping it just so that catches her mask like a fish hook, tearing the side of it open, splitting it just to the edge of her lips and making her smile seem like it would widen just before the blood seeped forth.

Two gloved fingers reach up as her head is snapped to the side, the pain not yet realized but the catch in material a cause - while the black synthetic fabric now bears a dark stain of blood upon the tips. Her head snaps up now, upper lip recoiling back to show a flash of her teeth simultaneously as silver claws come from curled fingers.

A brief display and draw of her own blades that lithe figure moving in a swift bolt, away from Black Cat at first, hitting the side of a parked car to spring upward, her hand catching the hanging hilt of abandoned whip to snap it down across the street. Not a oment for breath now, bitch made her bleed, stained her expensive ass 'pleather' and likely gave her a lasting mark.

Oh hell no!

The tension and recoil has Catwoman tucking, like a yo-yo she is brought upward and in a twist snaps down, using the swinging force and rebound to come down over the top of Black Cat.

"I will string your insides out like yarn along my streets!"

Jumbling monkies Fitzpatrick. She dodged.. wait.. hah! It still hit! Felicia's inner monologue is a bitch.

There was no waiting on the ground to see what Selina was doing, she jerked herself up into a tuck and roll that landed her upon her feet in a fluid motion to evade the rebound, yet turning just to see. "Uh oh! Made you bleeeeee'eeeed!" Felicia sings out, it was probably a bad move to taunt but, who the hell cares. Initially she came to talk, but she's getting what she wanted by an epic throw down that'll be all over YouTube by morning. See? Speaking feelings works!

Instead of sticking around, Felicia runs out into the middle of the street, the recoil of the grappling hooks soon rejected and let out at a length that would give her a double edged sword in the fight. That run soon turns into a blatant skip with the hooks twirled in a rapid circle either side of her. She stops and turns to face the angered kitty with a slight smile, the length of the hooks coiling around her body in a tight snug, trapping her arms with patient release.

"Wait. Wait. Stop." There was a deafening pause. She was setting up a trap for the cat, a stroke of bad luck as one would say. "You got something on your cheek."

Bitch.

Catwoman was not stopping, the glint of light off those twirled grappling timed out in her descent, her whip yanked sternly, another crack of lightning resounding from that wound leather, sending it in forst, those multiple tails forming as a tangle for those spinning hooks if they caught in their whirling display of protection for Black Cat.

Catwoman had already been moving anyway and only served to make interference and her figure sweeps downward , one foot pushed out to catch a heel for the white haired woman's own cheek if she does not move, hoping to bring her down.

Eye for an eye and all that fun crap.

Black Cat could have twirled and tangled free, probably unleashed a hellish amount of whips in Catwomans direction, but the slash to a pretty face was more than enough punishment.. for anyone. With a pretty face that is.

What she didn't realize was that the whip was caught within the hook that she had wrapped around herself. Shit. Just when she flicked the button to bring her grappling hooks inward with rubber burning speed, the whirring creating smoke and pain that would have rather been had in other situations, a quick step back too late for the cut was already placed, pain saved for the previous.

Hands free from their self made binds, one hand reaches up to cover the cut cheek, that same one eye dropping closed to hide a quick tear. At this point, there was no need for flashy jumps and kicks, that one fist draws back and strikes out in an upper cut meant for the ribs.

Catwoman lands in a crouch, one hand braced on the ground, her back to Black Cat in that kick that had a mean follow through. The back of her hand comes up like a felines, sweeping that black synthetic fabric across her cheek, slicking it with the rivulets of deep red that still spill from a unforgiving cut that runs from cheek to the corner of lips, making her spit blood as she stands.

This might hit YouTube but it is of no concern of Catwoman's, the watching crowd is now taking bets or filtering out, one of the bouncers taking a single step forward only to be held back by the other with a shake of his head.

The fist flying for her abdomen gets caught, a motion from Catwoman that has her placing her outspread hand up, claws out in a flash to grip that fist and /burrow/ them into Black Cat's fist, dragging her back with her as the impact and force of the upper cut staggers her back one step and firm plant of booted foot.

"This is my arena."

Like animals in a park. My bush.

Mine.

A Taxicab is no way for a Master Thief like Remy to travel but thats how he's doin' it right now. Due to some slinky cat burglar having claimed possession of his bike, Ro Laren. At least for the moment.
It's something Gambit isn't expecting when he rounds the corner a block away (he never parks 'right in front' of anything - force of habit) and to come upon two women in sleek, form fitting outfits kicking the ever living shit out of eachother.
The Cajun becomes one with the crowd instantly, his own phone actually lifting up and zooming in with a thumb-swipe as the cigarette in his mouth hangs from his lips, dangling there limply. Unexpected. Also… maybe he should not linger. Then again there is /HIS/ bike.

Felicia follows through with the punch, her own solid steps forward regardless if she was caught or not. The hand upon her cheek quickly slips back towards the pouch upon her thigh and up quick in a motion that grips at Catwomans neck, with purpose. It wasn't a tight squeeze, but it was enough for her to grap, clench light, and around towards the back which was held there as fingers twiddle to attach jewelry to. Yeah, she honestly didn't come to fight, but any language is good language. Ya dig!

"Initially I didn't come to fight.." Felicia growled out, stitching from her face mask tickling her nose enough to make eyes water and want to sneeze. The chocolate diamond necklace that Felicia stole the other day? It hung prettily against black, big and bold, laser cut to perfection attached to silver. She's got taste, of course!

However, just because she said those words didn't mean that she was going to take advantage of the situation, sure people are still recording and the ladies would have to save face, and it was clear that neither one of those stubborn bitches were going to give up. So she does the sensible thing. After all, she was sensible, right?

She steps in close, closing off that distance that would give others the appearance that they're head to head, quite literally, that grip upon the back of her neck tightening just enough to give attention to that this has to stop eventually. "Truce." D'aww, she was -trying- to be nice, in a fucked up way.

That grip only makes the grin on Catwoman's lips spread, it was noxious looking, venomous with the red staining to pink across her teeth from the blood that trailed inward.

The withdrawal is not seen quite yet, but both feet planted on the ground scraped soles in place, another flash of silver and hidden blades protrude from the toes, all the while the grip on Black Cat's hand /twists/, embedding furrows into her skin, a wrapped path akin to what barbed wire would do to someone when trapped amongst its coils….

Words stopped nothing in that moment of stillness in which they held each other, awaiting the next bleeding, slow and deliberate movements to ribbon her flesh… Stopped with that revelation, a slow blink behind goggles as a hidden brow arches and her next movements were thought out before followed through.

The blades in the toes of her boots retract just before she kicks back, using Felicia as the running surface for the back flip if she does not step away. All the while the 'truce' holding hand is given attention, that diamond necklace now attempting to be tangled in bloody claws that finally released Black Cat's hand.

Landing several feet away she holds the expensive and exquisite trinket before her, spread and dangling between splayed fingers.

"Where di you get this?" A tilt of her head shows she caught that lit ember and the peripheral view of Remy.
"Okay… C'est tout! Thats enough of dat!" Remy calls out loud enough his voice carries over the gathered crowd, "Shows over." A lift of his hands upwards and the trench flies open, the cellphone in his hands screen lit up.
"Exhibition show all dun, hope all you n' yours enjoyed te show. Set up by the Tin Roof Club… " A slow circle around the two girls and he faces the gathered faces, "C'mon now, show your appreciation for the show. Toss out some coin." A wave of his hand as if beckoning them on, "Dis lovely actors did a fine job entertainin' you all tonight."

"I wanna see some tits!" Someone shows.
Remy grins, "Well den you best show up at de club on one of the good nights, mon ami. Dat don't come free." A glance over his shoulder and he checks to see if Selina and Felicia have stopped tearing in to one another like feral strays. "Fo de next hour drinks be on da house."
Claps and cheers come from several onlookers and the mutant strides towards both women people actually do cast out some loose change, the drunker or more excited ones actual bills. Remy is at heart an opportunist.

"GET OFF OF MY TABLE!" A familiar voice would be heard in the backdrop as the door to the club swings open. Keith would have been seen laughing, while the other smack him in the back of the head. Another open door brings out a crash of the glasses within and a loud.. "MY FUCKING LAPTOP! AARRRG! YOUR GONNA DI.."

Felicia only paid attention to the ruckus in the background once she heard Remy say that this was all a show. He was slick, mind you, and at times Felicia thought her to be even slicker, she still had that bike, by the by. That turn of her head missed the way Catwoman bounced off her middle (pretty sure boobs helped her fly) and landed a few steps away, her own gloved hand grasping her face yet again and her chest because.. man.. the pressure those heels create felt like daggers right in the sweet spot.

"Jesus Christ.." She spits out, bending over just a little, a step taken forward to stomp hard upon the manhole cover which dislodges it and moves it up into a good position to be tripped upon. Whoops.

A quick wheezes of her breath and she's facing Catwoman, rubbing that boned area right above the boob with a little bit of disdain. "Zales." Simple. "They were -supposed- to showcase the new collection. Were."

Shiny, sparkly, whatever looks good on a girl, Felicia probably had it. "Gah.." She says again, doubling just a touch. "Think you broke a rib.. son of a whore.."

Very slick, very. Go figure it is Remy to step up and make it look like it is entertainment, all the while she is slinking back and her heel catches that manhole cover, sending her tritely upon her ass.

Catwoman may be sitting on the ground, bleeding, bruised and still holding a feral growl deep in her chest for the white haired bitch, but unmoved in her hand, and unwavering by her fall that Zales diamond display of perfection is just before her eyes, now hooked into her grip and tucked within the partially zipped suit.

Yep, right in the brassiere, it's the woman's portable purse.

Hearing the voice as the club doors open, Catwoman rises slowly to a stand, lifting her chin impetuously, all the while that blood rolls down it and along the slender column of her neck to join that necklace in its nestled home.

"I have someone who can help you." She says just before stepping along side Remy, her hand pressing his chest and patting lightly in a silent thank you that ended in a falling stroke downward before it parted. A tease despite current circumstance.

Remy now lights up as he stands there, both of his brows risen up while he murmurs in to the butt of that nicotine stick. "Some days…" A sidelong grin given to Selina, "Glad to see you two beautes get a long so well." The teasing hand doesn't get too much of a response, it's public and hes far too cool for that (thats mainly what the grin was for anyways).
"Bringin' my bike back to me?" He asks Felicia. The crowd for the most part filtering away. Despite the suave and carefree nature he is exhibiting there is an obvious wariness to the man, these two are nuts. This is twice now they've gone at it like this. One big catball of claws, fangs, leather and… oh…
Even if Felicia wanted to, she couldn't make a shocking get away on the bike. See, Catwoman messed up her plans. That sewer cover thingy was supposed to be meant for Remy, but with her toppling over, it caused her to ring out a laughter with blood following suit. Gross. Really. Grooooooce.

"ow ow ow.." Okay, no riding for her. She turns and begins to walk, keeping her back straight to show a little bit of pride, even though she looked like she chased down a gazelle, got bucked and took a bite out of its ass. Remy's words gets a raise of the brow, and a winning smile, bloody smile, but full of 'I don't give a damn cause I am winning' cocaine pile dive Charlie Sheen smile. Cuh-razy!

"Get your ass in the club. The bike is not yours to keep, let alone ride like that. I think we have… Vital information to exchange, if you want more. I know I do." Catwoman says in regards to the diamonds. They are a girl's best friend, as well as anything shiny and worth a good amount of money once filtered out.

Slipping past Keith and into the club the woman disappears, though her voice can be heard, a pitch above the noise of the crowd.

"I'll get you another laptop! No, you have other work to do… Yes to Tits McGee out there. I think I popped one…. "

A cough that actually inhales smoke has Remy pounding his chest as he shoots a quick look at Felicia, "Okay… yes, les go in side and you two can kiss an make up over some o' Remy's favorite drinks. Maybe get cleaned up." He smacks himself in the chest again, eyes watering a little until he puts the cigarette out, tucking it away. "Adoring fans await." The Tin Roof Club is loud tonight.
"She know full well, Ro Laren not her gal." Tits McGee… he isn't quite sure what he's gotten himself in to.
"T'ieves… " Gambit mumbles under his breath. But, he's smilin'.

"But Maaa.. she's so -shiny-.." Those words were said with death laced in, but whatever. She'll get another bike, possibly much prettier. She enjoyed them now. The thought of drinks appealed to her better nature and she was stepping up into the club until she heard those final words. Broke a boob? Awe hell no. "HEY! My tits are -real-! FEEL THEM!"

Then, that same familiar voice is hard: "EW! Boobs! Wait.. I have bo.." Someone must be drunk already.


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