Curiosity killed... (Muninn and RNArkaniel)
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Human Solos =&gt; Topic started by: Arkaniel on 29-04-2010, 21:44:48</h2>
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				Title: <strong>Curiosity killed... (Muninn and RNArkaniel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Arkaniel</strong> on <strong>29-04-2010, 21:44:48</strong>
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				Six hundred feet high, the long, vertical stretch of brick, steel and glass suddenly ended, turning into a flat rooftop, filled with air vents, air-conditioning and a rather large water tower. The concrete covering the rooftop is grimy and dirty. Obviously, few people come here to clean it, which is rather self-evident. Especially with all the emissions and acidic rain in New York City. Ah yes, New York, New York, the Big Apple, the largest city on the East coast on the United States. Its skyline is world famous. Its crime rate is topping the charts each year, worldwide. The enormous city, with its huge population, with representatives of every ethnic group in the world, except perhaps the pygmies, the city where people never went to sleep, the city where, at night,…<br><br>The Kingpin ruled.<br><br>Yes, a city that could otherwise have been one of the jewels of the world was in the hands of the self-proclaimed king of the underworld. Self-proclaimed or not, he was the secret leader of the growing shady side of the city, directly or indirectly , as every criminal paid his dues to them, many of the shops and businesses not on the main avenues paid protection money and most, if not all, officials were taking bribes from him, or from his people. Not only was his rule over New York virtually supreme, he was also the major criminal player of the entire United States, his closest rivals as far away as Los Angeles.<br><br>Now, the city wasn’t completely helpless. Things would have been much worse if not for one man, one hero standing up to him and all criminals that he could find. Yet, at this moment in time, that hero didn’t see himself as much of a hero. He never really had done so, to be perfectly honest. Back to that rooftop mentioned earlier, a figure dressed in a skintight suit of dark red and even darker blue colors, with a web-like pattern in black, was crouching on one side, gazing down onto the barely lit street below, even as torrents of rain washed over him in the darkness of night. Rivulets of water flooded down the crevices of his suit, along the lines of his firmly defined muscles, which stood out sharply. His body was as if sculpted from marble, the combination of the perfect, flexible gymnast and the champion Olympic athlete. Muscles were drawn as tight ropes all over his body. Not too thick or bulging, yet powerful and dense enough to stand out.<br><br>These muscles and his flexible built gave him strength to lift and toss cars about and to punch through concrete, although he preferred not to, as it usually ruined his gloves and bruised his hands. He was strong, not invulnerable. He was also able to perform freeform aerial acrobatics that were breathtaking, as well as the envy of every acrobatic and gymnast in the world. Despite his gifts being a burden, the agility, the freedom and the adrenaline that came with them were quite fun. At least, when he wasn’t fighting for someone’s life, sometimes even his own life… or having to bear the burden of being just not fast or just not strong enough and seeing someone die… die in a way he could have prevented if only he had been a little bit better. Being a hero was not all that it was cracked up to be.<br><br>But Peter Parker never gave up. He had a duty, a responsibility, to himself, to do what was in his power to help others. He bore his uncle Ben’s words in his heart. “With great power, comes great responsibility.” It was as if he had known what would happen to Peter a few years later. His beloved uncle had died when Peter was merely fourteen years old, just starting High School. The criminal that had taken away his uncle, shooting the man in a carjacking, had never been caught, obviously. Most of the cops in town were on the payroll of the Kingpin, so, they didn’t work all that hard at catching criminals.<br><br>It had been a traumatic experience, and it was a timid, geeky, and insecure Peter that had attended High School. While his marks were incredibly high, allowing him a full grant at ESU, his social life was less than pleasant. To put it mildly, he was the year’s nerd, the unattractive geek, the social outcast and the target of every prank and every bully. It had been hell, at times, but Peter had become stronger because of it. The values taught to him by his aunt and uncle remained strong, and despite the difficulties, he always kept up a smile, even as it became harder and harder each year. With his grades, he could take his pick of every course at college. But before he would have to make that choice, something happened to him. He still couldn’t explain it properly, but ever since that day, a week before high school graduation, he had obtained powers… powers and gifts that at times were a blessing, but also a curse. The curse he was bearing to this day.<br><br>The saying, the duty taught to him by his uncle, the sorry state of the crime-ridden city, it had coalesced into making him decide to become a vigilante. Something, someone that would put a halt to the corruption and the crime. Someone that would hopefully be a symbol for those pure of heart, for those not accepting bribes, for those willing to fight. Not someone out for vengeance, as that was not his thing. No, someone that would protect the innocent, even at great personal cost. It is why he elected for a journalism major, taking only science as a minor, even if sciences were his great love. Yet, he had a time-consuming responsibility, and not an important enough name to make it as a scientist in this city anyway, where nepotism and&nbsp; bribery reigned supreme. Comic books were good for something, though, as he, perhaps amusingly enough, took Clark Kent as an example. As a freelance reporter, he has a freedom to don his mask any time of the day, while through his official job, he had access to archives, sources and the quickest Intel on anything going haywire in the city. It was perfect, and with the amount of crime and related things he saw, he could make quite a bit of money, as he was paid by the article.<br><br>Now, though, three years after graduation with a master in journalism,&nbsp; seven years after high school graduation, seven years since donning the mask for the first time and eleven years since uncle Ben had died, Peter Parker was suited up, sharp green eyes gazing through the white lenses in his mask. His gaze wasn’t directed anywhere in specific… all he saw was the hopelessness of his quest. Despite all the fighting, all the people he saved, from criminals, from accidents and from disasters, despite all the beatings and injuries, a great many scars and several aches that never seemed to go away again all over his body, it seemed as if nothing was changing. Things truly appeared hopeless. He had discovered about the legendary Kingpin controlling all crime in town, the Kingpin who had spent millions of dollars creating or hiring people that somehow had powers or a technological advantage that no one else had to chase after the red and blue vigilante… the Kingpin who was untouchable, untraceable and invincible. Crime declined at times through his efforts, but when he was out for the count for even a few days after a major fight –he didn’t heal instantly after all- crime would be on the rise again. The only thing he could boast about was that they had reached a status-quo. He found some pride in the fact that things would be a lot worse by now if not for his interference. <br><br>He didn’t require thanks, nor gratitude, nor payment. The infamy, the price on his head and many people hating his guts was a bit de-motivational&nbsp; at times. Yet, he kept on fighting. Why? Because he was Spiderman…<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Curiosity killed... (Muninn and RNArkaniel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Muninn</strong> on <strong>04-05-2010, 18:04:40</strong>
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				<span style="font-size: 10pt;" class="bbc_size">Felicia Hardy.&nbsp; Party Hardy.&nbsp; The girl every guy she crossed fantasized about but whom none of them knew anything significant of beyond her, ahem, generous assets.&nbsp; &nbsp;Prim with a hint of playfulness she enjoyed toying with the boys and the attention they gave her but Felicia was very picky on whom she would take home and none of the drooling masses made <em>that</em> particular cut!&nbsp; <br><br>A double major in Library Sciences and Art History landed her a comfortable archivist job at the esteemed New York Public Library where many a person of the male persuasion found a sudden renewed and fevered interest in books – only to discover that Ms. Hardy did not, in fact, work with the books themselves.&nbsp; With her gleaming raven’s wing hair, alluring cut jade eyes and an athletic body a Playboy model would envy to top it all off it was no wonder she attracted so much attention, and jealousy. It was indeed true that Felicia’s milkshake did indeed bring all the boys to the yar-err, library, and she had no shame in illustrating and highlighting her attributes while on the clock, in the most tasteful manner, of course.&nbsp; <br><br>On a daily basis she thrilled with Christian Dior, Lauren Bacall, Prada, and others not named. Never anything so outrageously expensive as to raise suspicions (and ire) but enough to grant those around her who knew fashion enough reason to be jealous of the seemingly perfect Hardy.&nbsp; As in any work place there were those hornets that nested together to murmur and buzz their venomous lies and the library was far from beyond that sort of behavior.<br><br>Needless to say, Felicia hated her job.<br><br>It was boring, trite, and she found it completely under-stimulating.&nbsp; Even so, it paid well enough, gave her a good cover and free access to a veritable dragon’s hoard of information she had found useful on more than one occasion.&nbsp; She had not studied Art History and Library Sciences for any real love or either but for the pure interest of the value it was to her… nightlife.&nbsp; &nbsp;Here she could secretly obtain information on juicy (and pricy) bits of art that would give a charitable monetary value.<br><br>However, this is not the side of Felicia we are seeing tonight.&nbsp; Tonight we do not see Felicia the drop dead gorgeous archivist but rather Felicia, the Black Cat.<br><br>She moved low and fast over the rooftops, the icy downpour slickened the skintight material of her costume, its dark color indistinguishable in the cold, black rain which plastered against her curvy frame leaving very little to anyone’s imagination as to what exactly lay under.&nbsp; A neckbreakingly steep V sliced through the dark material at her chest revealing a liberal amount of creamy pale flesh and generously proportioned breasts where tiny trickles of rain made small spidering rivers flowing on and between her breasts.&nbsp; Small tufts of snow white fur trimmed her collar, forearms and ankles but otherwise the dark material was uniform throughout from shoulders to feet.&nbsp; Due to the weather, her normally free hair was tightly bound under a waterproof cap which both provided safety from the rain and successfully hid her natural hair color.<br><br>She may be well-proportioned as a woman but anyone with a good eye (who could look beyond her deep cleavage) could see the lithe and acrobatic muscles that shifted and slithered as she moved.&nbsp; These muscles were not adorned thanks to super powers nor mutant gifts but through her own gusto, enthusiasm, self-discipline and well-paid private trainers.<br><br>What’s an archivist doing running across the filthy roofs of New York, wearing what could be considered a fetish suit in the middle of a rainstorm and how the heck can she afford “well-paid” private trainers you may ask?&nbsp; These two questions can easily be solved with one single answer: her father, the late Walter Hardy, world-renowned cat burglar.&nbsp; Felicia simply adored and hero-worshiped her father and loved no one more than he.&nbsp; Walter had earned himself a name as well as a nice fortune hidden and hoarded into foreign accounts under various aliases before he was finally caught and sentenced to prison, where he died, a tragic event in Felicia’s short life that had shattered her heart and sent her careening after her father’s quickly fading footsteps.&nbsp; <br><br>Walter had always advised Felicia to never settle for second best and it was this advice that the young woman lived by thereafter.&nbsp; In high school and in college she had not joined her friend in cheerleading but excelled in basketball, which, in turn, earned her a scholarship during her university days.&nbsp; After her father’s arrest and subsequent death Felicia had been stricken by poverty before she could access her father’s secret accounts that had not been seized and, even then, she had to draw the money out at a trickle lest any left over vultures be watching her for the whereabouts of the missing assets her father left behind.&nbsp; &nbsp;After earning her two masters’ degrees and landing herself the job at the New York Public Library she allowed more of the secret income trickle into her own disguised as inheritance from a deceased grandmother, eventually landing herself a quaint little penthouse in Manhattan.&nbsp; <br>With the extra unaccounted for money she used to fuel her hunger and need to follow after her father, funding the trainers under false names, various gadgets that would be useful for her own catburglaring, a scattered number of abandoned buildings throughout New York she could use as a safe house or as a means to throw off anyone who could try and track her (all, of course, entitled to fictitious women with unassuming names).&nbsp; She read, trained, gadgeted, studied and practiced dry runs with an almost fevered obsession.<br><br>God, this was a <em>really</em> stupid time to be out and she knew it but the weather had been positively dismal the past few days and she had become completely stir crazy in the meantime when she could not throw herself into the night and bask in that thrill that came with lifting a priceless art piece or two.&nbsp; It often was a battle between the desire to follow her father and her addiction to the adrenaline rush over which was more important to her, but at the end of the night, it didn’t really matter.&nbsp; From her very first (barely) successful burglary on that night that seemed another lifetime all together she instantly understood what her father felt and why he continued to do what he did for all those years at the risk of getting caught.<br><br>The moon was hidden behind the sea of black clouds which, she had to admit, made her job easier by masking her even as it made it all the more difficult (and dangerous) with slick rooftops and poor sight.&nbsp; Not to mention that she was getting completely soaked to the skin.&nbsp; She gritted her teeth to keep them from chattering as she stopped at the edge of a building, green jade-like eyes peered out from behind a domino mask and judged the distance between the building she was perched on and the next.&nbsp; <br><br>The wind whipped a spray of chilly rain into her face.&nbsp; She silently cursed to herself and promised a hot, steamy mug of honeyed tea and a nice long and fragrant soak in a bubble bath upon her return after tonight’s prize; a Predynastic figure of the ancient Egyptian bovine goddess, Bat, which had a buyer who would give a nice sum of cash for the collection of the rare piece.&nbsp; As luck would have it, this particular piece had a private owner rather than a museum owner and thus made her mission easier by a degree, but only by a little one.<br><br>The Black Cat stepped back, counting out twelve steps silently and sucking in deep, lung filling breaths with each third step.&nbsp; She paused for a fraction of a breath, then launched herself forward at a run hot breath exploding out in a steamy cloud into the rain.&nbsp; Her footsteps barely made a sound except for the gentle and unavoidable splashes into the puddles trapped into the unevenly worn roof.<br><br>Slap.&nbsp; Slap.&nbsp; Slap.&nbsp; Sla-<br><br>Reaching the edge she leapt into empty air, arms poised behind her, legs arrow straight at the rear of her, granting her form the most aerodynamic shape as she successfully arrowed through the rain for a few heartbeats before she began to lose momentum.&nbsp; In the next moment her right arm whipped out in front of her, jade eyes narrowed and there was a gentle pop sound much like that of an air rifle, followed by a grating sound of metal scraping across stone.&nbsp; The metal grating clicked and the Cat’s body was wretched from its freefall, soaring through the air and towards the unforgiving dark brick before her, arm still raised above her head.&nbsp; She reached and caught hold of something solid that was attached to her extended arm with both hands, firmly shaped legs rose, the soles of her feet forward.<br>She swung towards the solid wall and hit it, feet first, without a sound. She huddled there, against the brick for a few moments, taking in controlled breaths, her heart and veins singing with adrenaline.&nbsp; When there was no sign of anything or anyone noticing she began to ascend, slowly yet easily crawling up the rain-wet side of the building, a dark mass against dark stone.<br><br>Nothing could possible go wrong tonight, could it?<br><br>Unlike another certain masked individual out tonight she had no questions as to why she did what she did.&nbsp; She knew herself for what she was and accepted it - nay, she <em>embraced</em> it.<br></span><br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Curiosity killed... (Muninn and RNArkaniel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Arkaniel</strong> on <strong>04-05-2010, 20:12:06</strong>
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				The moment a flash of white passed him by, Peter was torn from his musings. Or brooding, as they liked to call it. It seemed an affliction most heroes suffered from, at least in the movies, series and comic books. Their life was always difficult, after all, even if you were powerful enough to crush a car without much effort. But having a Spider-sense usually meant his brooding was interrupted before it got too bad. And as he was shaken from his mental meandering, he realized that sitting like a statue in the icy rain was not the wisest choice anyway. Despite a heightened immunity to most diseases, a part of his somewhat elevated healing rate, even he could get a cold. And let me tell you, having a cold when wearing a mask is not the most pleasant thing ever. Sneezing and coughing are very… messy.<br><br>As his sixth sense rang through his mind, he turned around, just as a woman, dressed entirely in black, except for white tufts of fur or something other hairy, rushed over the rooftop he was on. She must have mistaken him for a Gargoyle or something, as New York was filled with them and his red-and-blue wasn’t really as flashy as it sounded. The darkest tints of red and blue turned almost a dark grey, or even black, in the clouded night’s sky. This high up, there was no lighting, so to all appearances, and with how still he had been sitting, he could just as well have been invisible. <br><br>Obviously, she hadn’t noticed him, as she rushed by, about fifteen yards apart from him, before leaping over the narrow alley onto the next rooftop in a flowing movement of nearly unseen grace and elegance and with an agility that almost seemed supernatural. While masked ladies in black bodysuits weren’t all that common, this was The Big Apple, so ordinarily, his sense shouldn’t have buzzed him awake, alerting him to possible danger. That meant the graceful girl had something naughty planned. Peter sighed, as it wasn’t the type of naughty he would have preferred from a girl.<br><br>With a single leap, he landed not far behind her on the next rooftop. As he hadn’t seen her committing any crime and she wasn’t carrying any stolen goods, obviously, he had no choice but to follow her, silently, and see what she was up to. The better look he got at her, now, from behind, pointed out to the heterosexual male that chasing her wouldn’t exactly be a chore. A lithe, tight body, showing hints of fit, well used muscles, as well as the most perfect curves Peter had ever seen for real, was wrapped in a tight black skin-suit, one that seemed to be made of some kind of leather from appearances, even though it wasn’t, most likely, as it appeared to be soaked through.<br><br>His gaze, hidden beneath large white lenses in their menacing shape, tracked the tight little ass before him, and long, slender and shapely legs ran, before she leapt, taking a jump to a ledge on the next building, followed by her skillfully climbing the rest of the way to the rooftop. Another, single leap with powerful legs, and Peter had caught up again, crossing the entire rooftop with a single jump. Yep, it did sound a bit like Superman, but he wasn’t that good. Yet.<br><br>As he watched her scale the next building, before disappearing over the edge of the roof and starting to cross it, Peter let his mind work, analyzing her with his full mental capacities. Not to be bragging, but Peter’s intelligence was considerably high, and seven years of experience as a vigilante had made him experienced, as well as skilled at reading enemies. And this one, whether or not she was an actual enemy, which remained to be determined, appeared to be an ordinary human, so far. Of course, for an ordinary one, she was incredibly fit, fast and definitely strong, if she could climb buildings so easily. He knew from experience how much muscle power that took. She was not a lady to be underestimated.<br><br>He should be able to take her on in combat, if it came to that, as he was easily stronger and faster, but someone like her could always surprise her foe. That was dangerous. Even with the self-defense courses he had taken to beef up his much needed fighting skills, he was not some type of martial artist master, so in the off case she was, she could take him, regardless of strength.<br><br>His muscles tensed again, before he leapt, crossing the entire distance she had climbed, landing on the rooftop, just as she was jumping from the next edge… only… there was a broad street ahead. There was no way she could cross that distance. He leapt ahead, intending to fire a web line to catch her. Nut as he stood on that same edge, he saw her body flying forward like a bullet, all streamlined. She had obviously done this before. And just as she was losing velocity and altitude, he wanted to fire his web anew, but she surprised him, by drawing a small kind of gun from somewhere, firing a grapple hook of all things. She swung forwards, much like he would, landing against the wall, catching herself with her strong legs, soundlessly.<br><br>Impressive.<br><br>He watched avidly, as the sexy woman with catlike grace and skill scaled the building, slowly, but surely, not even seeming tired, though from the faint clouds exiting her mouth, he could tell she was breathing hard. From his own experience, it could easily be because of adrenaline, as that was a death-defying stunt for any human. This was no rookie… or if she was, she was plain reckless. It looked to be the former, though, as she swiftly seemed to disappear in the darkness of the slippery rooftop she was on right now.<br><br>He sighed. This pursuit, while keeping hidden, wasn’t all that easy. But he wouldn’t give up. Again, a powerful leap, crossing the street in a single bound. He landed on all fours, not out of necessity, but because he wanted to be as silent as possible. This lady was interesting, and he had nothing better to do, as the massive downpour that had lasted for days already and was nearly flooding the sewers, meant most crooks preferred staying at home. Mostly, because their targets, innocent humans, stayed indoors, with their cozy central heating as well.<br><br>She was heading towards the Central Park region of the city, where the rich lived. This became obvious as she headed straight for an apartment building that had higher monthly rents than he could make in a decade. Interesting. What did this tell him about her? Perhaps she was one of those rich, having invested in some fancy gear, like a state-of-the-art grappling gun, rather like Batman, and she was doing this for the kicks of it. Hey, with the rich and mighty, everything was possible. Or, she was a new vigilante. He had seen plenty of those over the years. Except for him and the guy in Hell’s Kitchen, DareDevil, none of them had lived longer than a few months after their first appearance. The Kingpin didn’t take kindly to people opposing him. <br><br>Spiderman kept up with her, easily, his powerful jumps and webbing giving him the speed advantage, but he didn’t surpass or stop her. He wanted to see where she went. If she had bad intentions, he would stop her. If not… depending on what she was planning on, he might give her a stern talking to. New York at night was no place for adrenaline junkie rich girls, nor a place for aspiring vigilantes that didn’t know what they were truly facing.<br><br>As they finally reached a building she stopped at, he landed on top, gazing down, to see what she would do and whether or not she would enter. The way she would enter would be telling about her intentions. He hoped for her sake that whatever she was doing now, it wasn’t digging up some sort of lockpick.<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Curiosity killed... (Muninn and RNArkaniel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Muninn</strong> on <strong>06-05-2010, 16:10:08</strong>
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				<span style="font-size: 10pt;" class="bbc_size">Lacking an acute “Spidey Sense” like her current rooftop stalker has, Felicia – or, rather, the Black Cat – was none the wiser to our friendly shadowing web-swinging hero.&nbsp; Up the face of the building she went, in-between lit and unlit windows, adorned balconies and empty ones.&nbsp; Her speed was nothing compared to present company but she wasn’t doing badly for lacking the natural ability to adhere to the wall joined with impressive superhuman upper body strength.&nbsp; She knew her destination and passed these without a second glance, making sure to stay clear of the golden glow of the lights.<br><br>Up on the 20th floor the Black Cat stopped by a dark balcony, taunt biceps below the black material burning with fatigue and aching for oxygen, sore hands gripped the sturdy rope tighter as she leaned away from the wrote-iron railing before shoving herself back towards it, legs kicking up as she swung up and onto the terrace landing in a crouched position.<br><br>The lights beyond the French doors of the terrace were off, the room was pitch and dotted with the tiny twinkling green and red lights of electronic equipment.&nbsp; The penthouse was empty, this she was sure of, and would remain empty thanks to certain measures she had set into motion earlier.&nbsp; The couple that occupied this penthouse was of the affluent and the privileged (the term “couple” used in the most loose sense), a marriage typical of this section of the upper crust of society created for business and prophet, there was no love lost between these two.&nbsp; Our masked lady knew very well that both partners in this marriage of convenience sought and found love (and other needs) in the arms of others, sometimes many others.&nbsp; <br><br>The husband enjoyed satiating his seedy, carnal need at underground S&amp;M clubs, paying top dollar to have buxom doms in needle sharp stilettos humiliate him or for the brawny “bears” in taut leathers to abuse him.&nbsp; She had heard, from a reliable source, that he enjoyed having clothespins scaffold his foreskin. The wife, on the other hand, enjoyed the escort services of younger women losing herself in their youthful, feminine beauty pretending for an hour or a night that she could be loved by such incarnates of Venus.&nbsp; It was sad, really, but the Cat kept herself from feeling remorse for these two, she had arranged for both parties to be kept, late, at their chosen affairs; a dom would be particularly violent tonight and unforgiving while an escort lover would be exceptionally passionate and would insist on staying together till dawn, to watch the sunrise of course.<br><br>And if that failed to keep them away until morning she had personally insured that the husband’s BMW would become towed for illegally parking in front of a fireplug while the wife’s Mini would have starter problems.&nbsp; The Black Cat was thorough.<br>There would be no interruption tonight.<br><br>The security in this residence was nothing unfamiliar to the Cat, a run-of-the-mill personal security system on the front doors and a motion sensor.&nbsp; The majority of the security was relied upon the doormen at the front – no one actually expected an assailant who leapt across roofs and scaled buildings to try to break into their home.&nbsp; &nbsp;No one expected someone to come through a window on the 20th story.&nbsp; Absolutely no one!&nbsp; Well, most no ones. There were the eccentric and the rightfully paranoid.<br><br>The Black Cat stood, climbing rope still in hand, gave it a firm upward angled tug and successfully dislodged the hook, which came sailing down, retracting back into the chamber hidden within her sleeves.&nbsp; The splayed hooks collapsed back into the body cavity and returned with a little hiss of rope and a metallic click as it settled and reloaded itself.<br><br>She stooped over in the rain by the French doors, sliding a metallic rod with an attached suction cup from a thin pouch at her thigh.&nbsp; The thin rod telescoped out and she gently placed the rubber suction onto the glass part of the door, just above the handle, and secured it.&nbsp; At the tip of one of the rods was a diamond sharp tip that rotated with ease under her fingers, the tiny squeal of glass cutting the only sound under the downpour.&nbsp; When the diamond tipped bit finished its circuit the Cat used the extended edges of the rode as leverage and had the circular piece under the suction lift – which popped up with ease in a perfect circle.&nbsp; She grinned to herself, too easy and set the glass on the ground, retrieving her tool and placing it back into its pouch.&nbsp; Next, she reached into the tea saucer sized hole and unlocked the door with a single flick, opening the door just a hair.<br>With a quick glance around she twisted and shimmied out of her wet costume, resembling a snake struggling out of its shed skin as she peeled the wet material off of her, revealing a similar but all black outfit just underneath that was much more drier than the outer layer.&nbsp; She dropped the suit and peered into the room again.<br>Her green eyes spotted the red blinking lights of the motion sensor and then on the solid shape of the control panel near the front door.&nbsp; She wasn’t able to discern the range of the motion sensor, as such factors were variable on how the owner personally set it up, but she was willing to bet the prize she was after that the sensor was not programmed to detect the area near the ceiling, flat on the floor or something relatively small.&nbsp; &nbsp;Again she plundered into the waterproof pouch at her side and produced a small, crude device – it wasn’t anything fancy but it would get the job done.&nbsp; Exposing the air cartridge propelled grappling hooks at her wrists she adjusted the pressure, lowering it so it wouldn’t send something hurtling through a wall and attached the small device between the prongs (using some handy duct tape), quick fingers dancing over the buttons.&nbsp; <br><br>There would be only one way to get the angle she was hoping for that <em>might</em> not set off the alarm so she wriggled down onto her belly near the crack she had made with the open door (careful not to crush her bountiful bosom).&nbsp; Steadily she extended her right arm, laying her cheek flat against her shoulder, left eye shut.&nbsp; Our resident cat burglar checked her aim to the base of the wall where the control panel lay and took a breath.<br><br>3.<br>2.<br>1.<br><br>She fired the hook with another pop of air and a prayer, watching the small device fly crookedly.&nbsp; Holding her breath she watched as the head of the hook thudded into the far wall about a foot further than she had planned.&nbsp; A few seconds later the steady blink of the device’s light accelerated followed by a humming pulse.&nbsp; The steady red lights on the control panel and the motion sensor pulsed once then steadily faded into black.<br><br>Felicia’s grin broadened and she scrambled back to her feet, slipping easily inside of the posh apartment.&nbsp; The electronic pulse from her small device would be enough to knock out the system for only a few minutes so she had to work fast.<br><br>She worked her way into the living room and found a wooden cabinet with various piece of ancient relics one would normally find in a museum.&nbsp; Some would say that the items owned by the couple was impressive but Felicia saw that none of the relics had anything in common – they ranged from carved jade from the Chinese Jin Dynasty, Black-Figure pottery from Ancient Greece, some Victorian china and even some sort of American Indian trinket (most likely illegally owned), and ah ha! The PreDynastic piece she was looking for!– it was simply a vanity collection meant to show off one’s wealth rather than one’s artistic taste.<br><br>The green-eyed thief had absolutely no problem taking from these two.&nbsp; Felicia tested the door and – surprise, surprise – rolled her eyes when she discovered that it was not even locked.&nbsp; She checked the interior for any sort of wiring but found none.&nbsp; Reaching inside she took hold of the figure, which was about the length from the tip of her fingers to about 3in below her wrist.<br><br>No alarms, no bells, no trouble.<br><br>How anti-climactic! Oh, well.<br><br>Before she turned to leave the jade caught her eye – it was a beautiful trinket made of green and purple jadeite, a large comb accessory about the size of her hand, carefully carved into blooming flowers, curling vines and full petals.&nbsp; Oh, what the heck? She snatched this piece, too, for herself.&nbsp; A girl could never have too many shinies! With a flick of her wrist the grappling hook and device came soaring back to her with a click.&nbsp; Ripping the small metal box free she stuffed it back into its pouch and sealed it, removing a different sort of purse from inside of her costume, just under her breasts.&nbsp; Shaking it out she placed the Bat figure inside (the fabric was thick and solid and would provide some protection.<br><br>Admiring the jade comb in one hand he exited out the terrace to gather her outer suit and make her leave before the alarm system popped back on, humming the melody to “Memory” from <em>Cats</em> (sorely out of tune).<br></span><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Curiosity killed... (Muninn and RNArkaniel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Arkaniel</strong> on <strong>06-05-2010, 16:55:45</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Spiderman had followed the woman all the way here, to one of the richest apartment blocks in the city. He hoped it hadn’t been for nothing. Not that he craved a fight, but it would be a bummer if she actually lived here and he had spent over half an hour chasing her through this downpour. His skin tight suit stuck uncomfortably to his skin. He was glad he had elected for a waterproof material, just a grade under actual leather, so it was easy to move in, even when wet. Still, he had to take care to not chill down too much, as getting a cold would be most unwelcome. The athletics and acrobatics to follow her here had set his blood pumping, so for now, he was warm enough. Still, the chase had been pretty simple to his superhuman standards, so her wasn’t even breathing hard.<br><br>Gazing down, all he could think about was ‘Bingo’. She got out a few tools he was familiar with and set about breaking in. Interesting. The skill she showed pointed out to him that she was no rookie at this. He wondered why he had never encountered her before in that case. Well… most night, he was usually too busy to notice a black clad woman in the night’s sky. Still, this one was sexy as hell, so it was only natural his luck played out in him not seeing her. No, he had to deal with the uglies like Flint Marko and the Rhino.<br><br>When she entered, he watched how she used a modification for her grappling hook to disable the alarm, while he was slowly climbing down the wall, keeping his eyes on her. The moment she entered, he slipped lower, attaching himself to the bottom of the balcony above her floor. In essence, this meant he was sitting upside down, two metres above where she just laid down to shoot that hook to disable the alarm so skillfully.<br><br>All he did was watch and wait. He needed to catch her red-handed before he could act. Hell, up till now, it could still be explained away as her simply having lost her keys and using a complicated way to get in. Weird? You bet! But this was New York. What constituted as weird in the rest of the world was pretty ordinary here. No, the weird thing to him would have been if she got to the balcony the way she did and than used a key.<br><br>Still, the show was pleasant, as she took of the soaked black outfit, only to reveal an even tighter, more revealing body suit. Yummy. This night was turning out quite good. It would be a pity to beat her up. Yes, he couldn’t take her to the police just like that. Two reasons really. They were corrupt, and they wanted to arrest him most of all. Not a good combination. So, he copied the comic-hero Batman, and just beat up all the criminals bad enough to possibly scare them away from their life of crime… or at least put them out of the count for a few days or weeks. Only when the evidence was impossible to neglect, even for corrupt cops, would he bring them in.<br><br>Now, he waited and watched, only for her to come outside again, playing with some shiny, jade comb, after tucking away some small figurine in a pouch somewhere in her chest area. Hey, sue him for not noticing where! Those twin orbs of female goodness, those full, firm breasts, packed tightly in that black skintight outfit were quite distracting. But now, it was play time, as she stood there, in the door to the balcony, and he lowered himself in his trademark pose, down his webline, upside down, till he was directly in her sight, visible in the faint light that came from inside the apartment.<br><br>“Hello there”, he said, his voice light and aiming for banter, as he always did. “It is a beautiful night out. And that was not the only beautiful thing I saw. Pity you had to ruin my very pleasant show by ending it with such a naughty act. Stealing is bad, you know. And it comes with consequences… are you familiar with those?”<br><br>He let go of his web, turning in midair, before landing on his feet, crouching down before her. Two lines of white, sticky web shot out. One shot the comb from her hand, sticking it to the glass of the French Door behind her, covering it in the white goo that was too strong for a human to break. The other hit the pouch hidden under her chest.<br><br>"Bullseye", he taunted, before pulling the pouch away. "By the way, you were a bit off tune with your little Cats song.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Curiosity killed... (Muninn and RNArkaniel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Muninn</strong> on <strong>06-05-2010, 18:23:33</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<span style="font-size: 10pt;" class="bbc_size">It took a few heartbeats longer to react than she was comfortable with when the great big gobs of gooey webbing shot the lovely jade comb out of her hand then attached itself to the bag containing the Egyptian relic.<br><br>Spiderman?&nbsp; THE Spiderman? The city’s red and blue hero who single-handedly made it his personal duty to protect the city – one lonely thief at a time it seemed.&nbsp; Well this was certainly an exciting twist to her night.<br><br><em> “It is a beautiful night out. And that was not the only beautiful thing I saw. Pity you had to ruin my very pleasant show by ending it with such a naughty act. Stealing is bad, you know. And it comes with consequences… are you familiar with those?”</em><br><br>She started and silently cursed when the purse was yanked out of her hands by the masked hero’s webbing – but she wasn’t just going to give up just yet.&nbsp; The wheels in her head whirled.&nbsp; If she was anything she was certainly stubborn (thank you, daddy).&nbsp; There was no way she was going to jail, either.&nbsp; The night was yet full of possibilities but she promised herself that however it would end, it would not end with her sitting in a cell tonight.<br><br>“Well, well, Spiderman… do you always flatter women with such naughty talk or am I an exception?”<br><br>The Black Cat purred, a snowy brow arched above the black mask, full, reddened lips tugging back into a slow smile while jade green eyes wandered down hard ridges and well-defined contours the mapped across his skin-tight costume. Hmm…. Very nice.&nbsp; She let a stray thought or two wonder what could possibly lie beneath that drenched costume...<br><br>“Now, you wouldn’t really send me to the police, would you?” She rested a gloved finger onto her bottom lip. “You do already have what I’ve… liberated.&nbsp; Why don’t we just let call it a night then, mh?&nbsp; Go our separate ways.&nbsp; I’ll go home and really, <em>really</em> think long and hard about what I've done tonight.&nbsp; Meanwhile you.... you can go back to playing hero.”<br><br>She lifted her hands, palms out to show she carried no weapons, and stepped out into the rain, letting the torrential water slicken her skin, rain flowing freely between her open cleavage.&nbsp; The icy rain had some, ahem, <em>obvious</em> effects on her body; her nubs suddenly stood erect, two noticeable points straining against the wet, clinging material.<br><br>"What do you say?"<br></span>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Curiosity killed... (Muninn and RNArkaniel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Arkaniel</strong> on <strong>06-05-2010, 21:15:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<em>“Well, well, Spiderman… do you always flatter women with such naughty talk or am I an exception?”</em><br><br>That was the answer he got? Bloody hell! And then, she purred, sending delicious shivers down his spine. Full red lips that looked oh so kissable, and a kind of blonde hair that was practically white, offset her alabaster skin, contrasted by a pitch black skintight suit that didn’t fail to show of fit, trim muscles and curves that would have any woman green with envy.<br><em>“Now, you wouldn’t really send me to the police, would you?”</em><br><br>The way she said it, her voice so seductively innocent, while one finger rested on her full, pouty lips. Peter couldn’t think straight anymore. Hell, being the class geek and later on combining a career with being a most wanted vigilante with more enemies than money, wasn’t exactly great for a sexual or romantic life. He was still almost a virgin, though what his body lacked, his mind supplied, filling the few hours he managed to sleep with steaming hot scenes. Scenes that would not definitely involve this vixen.<br><br><em>“You do already have what I’ve… liberated.&nbsp; Why don’t we just let call it a night then, mh?&nbsp; Go our separate ways.&nbsp; I’ll go home and really, really think long and hard about what I've done tonight.&nbsp; Meanwhile you.... you can go back to playing hero.”</em><br><br>It was so tempting, to just let her go. But then, she did something that completely derailed his brain. The icy rain poured down her black suit, her body, or specific parts of it at least, reacting obviously. Twin points peaked almost through the cloth of her suit, even as the black now molded even tighter against her skin. She might as well have been naked, for all it hid her body now, but the sight of those twin, hardened peaks, her nipples that seemed pert and firm, crowning cherries on her gorgeous breasts… If it had been just Peter standing her, he might have fainted. <br><br>But this was Spiderman. With the mask on, he was a hundred times as assertive. And two could play this game. He had noticed her jade eyes judging his form. Time to pay back. He rose to his feet, standing at about the same height as hers. Peter was not exceptionally tall, though far from short either. Just average in length. Though, the dark red and blue, skintight uniform that was by now world famous, or infamous, depending how you looked on it, stretched tightly over a body that was close to perfection.<br><br>Not bulky, or heavily muscled. Yet, there was not an ounce of fat on his entire body. Instead of a body builder, he looked like a master martial artist, with toned, strong muscles, coiled around him like ropes. Strong pectorals filled the upper part of his top, while his abdomen was proudly displayed, lined out as a six pack of hard, tight muscles. Powerful arms, the perfect combination between muscle and athleticism, and even more powerful legs, that helped him jump like no one else could, completed the image.<br><br>“What do I say, you ask?”<br><br>That is a good question, Peter thought. I wasn’t planning on bringing her to jail, as that is pretty much the same as letting her walk away now. The problem was, she hadn’t attacked him, either, so he couldn’t exactly beat her up. Especially since it was a woman. Defending himself would work far better.<br><br>“I say I can’t let you go, missy.” But even as he said this, his eyes, not entirely noticed because of his lenses, were glued to her perfectly defined and outlined chest. Wow.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Curiosity killed... (Muninn and RNArkaniel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Muninn</strong> on <strong>07-05-2010, 07:02:47</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<span style="font-size: 10pt;" class="bbc_size">Well, she may not have “spidey senses” but all women have an innate ability to know exactly when a man they are talking to is staring directly at their pectoral goods, lenses and a mask or no lenses and a mask.&nbsp; Don’t ask me how, they just do. I’m quite sure it’s been scientifically documented in Nature magazine somewhere.<br><br>They also knew when their charms were working on a member of the opposite gender.&nbsp; Men were oh so deliciously predictable! Moreover, this particular man was quite delicious himself.&nbsp; The hard muscles visible beneath the body hugging hero’s livery – not too big or bulky like those muscled-brained gym monkeys but rather firm and athletic… just how she liked it.&nbsp; His biceps and pectorals were well sculpted, the dark colors of his uniform flattering in this sense.&nbsp; She wasn’t completely against the idea of spending a few dances with him.<br><br>Heaving a deep defeated sigh into the night air (that sumptuously swelled her full chest) she tilted her head to her right, playful green eyes dancing, gloved palms held up in defeat, shrugging her shoulders.<br><br>“Then I guess you win, eh?&nbsp; A single girl like me has no chance against a bigshot super power like you.&nbsp; Lemme pick up my things, mh?”<br><br>She toed her wet and discarded costume to emphasize her point.&nbsp; After that the Cat bent forward nice and low, granting our friendly neighborhood Spiderman a indulgent view of her perilous cleavage, heavy, dripping, pale mounds bulging and stretching the wet black material to its limit – it seemed physically impossible that her profound breasts did not simply escape their damp confines but maybe if one stared hard and long enough they just… might…<br><br>“By the way… I thought it fair to inform you….” <br><br>The would-be thief clutched up her uniform in one arm, then pointed a single digit downwards and mouthed.<br><br>“Shrinkage.”<br><br>She winked, and in that same moment there was the air pop of her arm mounted grappling launcher, the tapered head hissed through the air and speared through the empty space of the bag just below our arachnid hero’s hand (it wasn’t aimed AT him, she wasn’t trying to do him any harm!), effectively ripping it free.&nbsp; Snatching up her suit she sprung after it as it sailed into the open night, attached to the rope.<br><br>Perched on the wrote iron railing she placed a finger and traced it along his cheekbone.<br><br>“We should really do this again, sometime, Spider.”<br><br>And she free fell backwards into the darkness. <br><br>Pop!<br><br>She was zipping away on her grappling rope.&nbsp; Felicia knew that Spiderman could easily nip and trap her with one of those sticky webs so she had to move fast, fast and reckless.&nbsp; She was willing to bet Spiderman would not be wiling to risk seriously injuring her while she was fleeing in the air and making wild decisions. <br>The cat knew exactly where to take the spider.<br><br><br>Now, should our hero attempt to follow, he’ll find that once he mounted the iron railing there would be a metallic snap and then the low grinding groan of metal as the bars would begin to bend and bow under his weight, tipping off over the edge with another crack.<br></span>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Curiosity killed... (Muninn and RNArkaniel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Arkaniel</strong> on <strong>07-05-2010, 10:10:52</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				What a rookie mistake he made there. If this had been some dangerous villain, he’d be dead now, or close to it, possibly barely saved by his spider sense. He had allowed himself to be distracted, which was a deadly thing to do for a vigilante hero. To be fair… the truly dangerous people he had encountered so far, didn’t look as dead sexy as this one did. Wow. She looked like some kind of… actress slash model slash beauty. Like on of those people belonging on the cover of a magazine, while living in a mansion in Beverly Hills. Not like a cat burglar, for that is what she obviously was.<br><br>At this range, standing only a meter or so in front of her, his spider sense would have been too late if she’d pulled out a gun or something at shot him. He might have dodged just enough to prevent it from being lethal, but that would still have him heavily injured on a balcony in the icy rain. <br><br>Then came the final distraction, sultry words completely riveting his attention, before she naughtily pointed down and murmured ‘shrinkage’. He looked down and felt a blush rising on his cheeks. He couldn’t help it that no man could get a proper hard on when his manhood was covered in icy wet cloth, that was so tight, due to his size, that there could barely flow any blood into it.<br><br>It was what she had been waiting for, as she snatched her treasure with unexpected speed, before popping over the balcony, using her grapple hook to get as far away as possible in one aerodynamic move. He turned, agility coming to the forefront, adrenaline driving away the last of his distraction. And he stepped forward, only barely avoiding the iron-wrought rail of the balcony, courtesy of his blaring spider sense. She had sabotaged it? The bitch! <br><br>His eyes were tracking her lithe, curvy body darting through the air. He could snatch her with a webline, but her being an ordinary human, that might snap her bones, especially her back or her neck, and he didn’t want that on his consciousness. She was a cat burglar, not a homicidal super villain. So he jumped, avoiding the rail and started following her, shooting web after web, swinging behind her. The chase was on, but he was playing with her. He could easily catch up, or relatively easy at least, but he wanted to know where she would go.<br><br>Still, as revenge for that shrinkage joke, he would play with her a little bit. Taking a speedy detour, he managed to land on top of a building she was about to land on. So, when she landed, he stood there, in front of her, straight, arms crossing before his chest. Even with his mask on, the disapproving expression on his face was ‘visible’.<br><br>“Well”, he said, his voice heated, daring, and seductive, as this was the first time he was dealing with a super sexy female opponent, and being masked, he dared saying a lot he would otherwise never dare. “Look at the package. Now… imagine its size without the shrinkage from this freezing rain…” He had never, ever talked like this before, but he hoped it sounded a bit naughty and distracting as well. His manhood was well-endowed in size, though often, it wasn’t that obvious, as the skintight suit pressed everything down, and then there was usually the chilly night’s sky to consider, too…<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Curiosity killed... (Muninn and RNArkaniel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Muninn</strong> on <strong>08-05-2010, 18:48:30</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<span style="font-size: 10pt;" class="bbc_size">Men could be such bullies, honestly! Hrmph.&nbsp; So, give a guy some superpower and he suddenly either decides to singlehandedly shoulder the responsibility of vigilante justice or to become a psychopathic super villain.&nbsp; Sheesh! <br><br>Through the wet twilight she swung, her body singing with joy and adrenaline while she flew further away from the infamous Spiderman, it was somewhat difficult to navigate in the rain, the water made her rope slippery and the entire experience would be cold and miserable if she had time to think about it.&nbsp; Currently she was much too preoccupied fleeing from a man in a blue and red costume who could shoot some sort of sticky webbing and move much faster than she could.&nbsp; She never had this much difficulty before!&nbsp; Oh, sure, there was the occasional security guard or owner she ran into during one of her… errands.&nbsp; However, they had been decidedly human without any sort of super power to speak of.<br><br>She swung and hopped across roofs with practiced ease, never daring to look behind her for fear of that slowing her down!&nbsp; That was a rookie move that was usually seen in films or comic books.&nbsp; No, she’d continue forward and if she happened to – - - - she stopped dead in her tracks at the next roof.<br><br>Oh, crap.<br><br>So there he was, standing there, scowling in the way that superheroes will through their masks, his rigid body language dripping with these facts.&nbsp; Was she going to get it now?&nbsp; Was he going to give her the “justice” speech?&nbsp; Simply just hop down and arrest her (and would that involve some, interesting, handling?)?<br><br><em>“Well. Look at the package. Now… imagine its size without the shrinkage from this freezing rain…”</em><br><br>The Cat blinked.&nbsp; &nbsp;<br><br>At first she was unsure of what she heard but as she was sure her ears did not fail her….<br><br>“Is that all you stopped me for?”<br><br>Arms crossed over her charitable chest, pressing the soft flesh together and pushing them out at the top, deepening the cleavage line in doing so, for Spiderman’s benefit.&nbsp; Shapely hips were canted out to her side, hand held in place against the curve.&nbsp; To make sure that he would not make any move to retrieve the figurine from her again she promptly shoved the thing, sack and all into her suit.<br><br>“Oh, sweety… are all superheroes so insecure?&nbsp; I’m surprised there isn’t a support group yet.&nbsp; Or is there?”<br><br>She teased, an impish smile playing on those curved lips.<br><br>“I tell you what, let’s meet up when it’s <em>not</em> raining and you can show me then.”<br><br>The fact of the matter was not that she didn’t find him attractive or wasn’t interested in what lay beneath that form clinging suit – oh, no, quite the contrary!&nbsp; She was becoming quite fascinated with this web-slinger, he just had to prove himself more interesting.&nbsp; As a woman, she could keep herself from turning into a drooling mess, women have that super power.<br></span><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Curiosity killed... (Muninn and RNArkaniel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Arkaniel</strong> on <strong>10-05-2010, 18:28:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<em>“Is that all you stopped me for?”</em><br><br>Her words cut through him like a lightsabre through… pretty much anything. That hurt. Peter wasn’t the most suave guy, and seldom got to flirting, mostly because girl kind of ignored him. He was not overly handsome in real life, more easily classified as ‘cute’. But he had the whole geekish thing still going for him. He couldn’t help it that he was pretty smart, could he? But now, he took a chance as Spiderman, the mask giving him the confidence the more timid Parker lacked, and he made a very daring and flirtatious, downright sexually tinted remark, only to be shot down.<br><br>That wasn’t all, as the cat burglar went about showing off some more, by positioning herself just so that every inch of her attractive lines and curves drew his eyes, her impressive cleavage challenging him, her impish smile provoking him. He felt urges now he had seldom felt before, as he wanted to toss her down and have her way with her. She was just so incredibly, hotly sexy!<br><br>For a moment there, he even considered it. He was masked, after all, he was already on the most wanted list, and she was a criminal. Who could stop him? Who could catch him? Well, there were plenty of people out there that could catch him, but no one could want him dead even more than they already did now. Despite his track record with villains and scumbags alike, he was still New York’s most infamous personality.<br><br><em>“Oh, sweety… are all superheroes so insecure?&nbsp; I’m surprised there isn’t a support group yet.&nbsp; Or is there?”<br><br>“I tell you what, let’s meet up when it’s not raining and you can show me then.”</em><br><br>Oh, now that did it. Something inside of him snapped. For years, frustration after frustration had built up, with little to no release. And now, this hot piece of art in black leather provoked him, the proverbial drop the made the bucket spill over. In a flash of movement he was upon her, standing so close their bodies were almost touching. With a dash of his superhuman speed, he snatched her wrists, and twirled her around, so when she stopped, her arms were turned up behind her back, tightly in his grasp, while he stood behind her. Using his strength, he held her wrists tightly together with only one hand, before he reached out with the other.<br><br>“If that is how you want to keep playing, fine by me. Let me tell you all about why stealing is wrong. You see, it annoys me and it pisses me off. So…”<br><br>He trailed off, his hand now touching the upper part of her chest, just under her throat. He slid it down, over her skin, over her cleavage, his wet, cold, glove covered fingers almost caressing her, about to slide into her cleavage, even deeper, but tantalizingly stopping at the last moment, before his large hand swept over the curve of her full, pert, firm breasts, the waterproof red glove gliding over the delicious orbs covered in tight black leather, unabashedly, even if he almost shocked himself with his daring. The hand slid deeper, over her taut, muscles stomach, before sliding into her suit and unashamedly grasping the sack with the figurine, and withdrawing it.<br><br>“Stealing doesn’t pay off. Now, I’ll see you next time, my delicious kitty-Cat.”, he whispered hotly, the mouth of his mask touching her slender neck, before he twisted the hand holding her wrists, crushing the grapple hooks there, before he let her go and jumped away, high and far, over the edge of the building, disappearing into the darkness and the rain, swinging back to the crime scene to replace the figurine where she got it, even as his own body was still tingly warm with the memory of the firm, tight woman’s body in his hands, the swell of her breasts in the palm of his hands. Under his mask, Peter Parker was blushing a bright red.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Curiosity killed... (Muninn and RNArkaniel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Muninn</strong> on <strong>12-05-2010, 18:07:45</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				&nbsp;<span style="font-size: 10pt;" class="bbc_size">The Cat knew nothing of the Spider – save his reputation – so she knew not of how he would react to her teasings.&nbsp; She figured he, like most men, would take some offense but would also be able to see that there was no real ill intent; it was a sort of backhanded flirting.&nbsp; Most men she encountered got it, but it was quite apparent that Spiderman was not like most men. <br><br>Smug in her self-assurance she believed she had the upper hand on the goody-two-shoes Spiderman, alas that was her mistake. His next movement, almost too quick to track, caught her completely off-guard. Felicia only had time to gasp in shock when the silent and still figure suddenly dashed towards her, his sinewy body so close to her she could imagine the heat of his flesh beneath the costume.&nbsp; Startled as she was Felicia did not react when his firm grip snatched her delicate wrists and mercilessly twisted her around and, ultimately, roughly pinned her wrists upon her back with his incredible strength.&nbsp; Clenching her jaw tightly she dropped her head forward and hissed out between her set teeth in pain grimacing, at the very uncomfortable pinch and angle her arms had been restrained.<br><br>Wow.&nbsp; He was strong, <em>very</em> strong.&nbsp; It was like having her arms dipped and then dried in solid concrete, there was absolutely no budging in his hold.&nbsp; For a perfectly held moment Felicia was well aware that, if he chose to, this man could easily crush her arms and snap the bones as easily as she could a handful of twigs.&nbsp; Her heart quailed in her breast.<br><br><em> “If that is how you want to keep playing, fine by me. Let me tell you all about why stealing is wrong. You see, it annoys me and it pisses me off. So…”</em><br><br>In-between one of those panicked heartbeats she felt his cold glove rest upon the joining dip of her collarbone and her blood chilled.<br><br>He wasn’t actually going to try to….?<br><br>Her breath caught in her throat and stuck there when his chilly fingers began to slither southward.&nbsp; The jammed breath suddenly tumbled out in the form of a small, protesting moan when his fingers detoured from their route through the valley of her breasts to glide down over one of her thinly clad mounds.&nbsp; Felicia’s body twitched in a suppressed shiver, his fingers finding purchase over her twitching belly muscles, damp gloved fingertips dipping into her suit.&nbsp; This couldn’t be happening! Spiderman was one of the <em>goodguys</em> goodguys didn’t do things like this! This was all completely unexpected to begin with but then suddenly…<br><br>His hand was in and out of her suit with her prize.<br><br><em> “Stealing doesn’t pay off. Now, I’ll see you next time, my delicious kitty-Cat.”</em><br><br>His hot breath, steamy in the cold and wet night, pricked the tiny white hairs laying down the back of her neck erect, sending a tickling shiver down her spine.<br>There was a sharp pinch as her wrists, the sharp snap of metal crunching and the hero-of-the-night was off.&nbsp; The Black Cat was left there, alone on the rooftop, rubbing at her abused wrists (hells, it could have been worse and she knew it!), scowling after the retreating form. Although…<br><br>If he actually had tried anything further she would have killed him.&nbsp; She knew not how or even when, but she knew she would have made sure of it.&nbsp; It had happened in her life once before and she would not allow it a second time without retribution. That is the Cat’s promise.<br><br>However, when he simply surprised her then successfully acquired the bag she had hidden beneath her suit while she had been stunned… that was a totally different kettle of fish. The angry humiliation she had felt was immediately quelled with equal parts interest.<br><br>He didn’t seem all that bad of a guy and his hands did feel rather nice, she reflected.<br><br>What an infuriatingly smug little bug.<br><br>Oh, make no mistake, she was still infuriated that he had smashed her grappling hook launcher, that wasn’t cheap nor easy to make! However, his strange actions intrigued her.<br><br>“Yes.&nbsp; Something tells me you’ll have a black cat cross your path more often, Spiderman…” She murmured to herself,&nbsp; wicked green eyes shining with mirth.<br>When his lissome form vanished into the sky’s deluge and the grey veritable maze of buildings Felicia moved quickly.&nbsp; Roughly yanking and tugging at the length of rope from her mangled launcher until the entire length was free from the crushed metal.&nbsp; &nbsp;However, it was now frayed from the friction of pulling it out.&nbsp; It will get the job done though she will definitely need to replace it after this use.&nbsp; Without a second thought she snapped out the gripping teeth of the hook and firmly set it onto the building’s edge allowing the length to tumble down the building, sliding the rope around her waist and gripping the rope with one hand in front of her for the lead while the other was clutching the rope at the small of her back, keeping a firm grip.<br><br>Crouching at the edge, back to the night, she leapt backwards and began her steady repel, aiming for one of the window ledges she had passed while climbing up the building just a moment before.&nbsp; Reaching it her feet soundlessly touching down onto the ledge near some potted flowers.&nbsp; Crouching, she hung onto the rope with one hand while the other searched around the pots and…. Ah-ha.&nbsp; Bingo.&nbsp; She allowed a smirk to stretch across her lips.<br><br>From between the pots she removed a small… something, made of stone.&nbsp; She lifted it to her face, eyes dancing across the stretched figure of a cow goddess, the stone darkened in the rain.<br><br>“Hope you like the present I left you.”&nbsp; Shoving this into her ample bosom she continued her descent down to the streets.<br><br>Luckily she was only a few blocks from one of her safe houses and she could easily get there by foot.&nbsp; It had been an interesting night, to say the least, full of unexpected surprises and even a celebrity guest.&nbsp; This Spiderman was a strange fellow and although her common sense told her to steer clear of him, the other (louder) voice whispered of such devious and delicious things she could do to him.<br><br>Even as he remembered the smooth curves of her body she remembered his touch, so brazen it left a tingling sensation in its wake, and his hot breath which had branded the back of her neck with curious arousal.&nbsp; Yes, he would definitely be a luscious toy to play with.<br><br>As she spirited down alleys she just had one last thought for our hero;<br><br><br><br>She hoped Spiderman liked lawn gnomes. </span><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Curiosity killed... (Muninn and RNArkaniel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Arkaniel</strong> on <strong>16-05-2010, 21:35:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				At this very moment, Peter Parker felt a bit like a fool. Standing in the expensive condo that had been the scene of a recent theft, he gazed down at the small bag in his hand. The empty bag and the obviously fake figurine shaped object in his other hand. Holy Hell! She had conned him! Him! Mister Spider Sense! That was very uncool and should be impossible. However, should is not a fact, so, here he stood, at a crime scene, looking like the obvious perpetrator in the first place, just when the building security barged through the door, followed by two cops.<br><br>Just great. He was going to have words with the deity of cats. And kick all cute fuzzy little kittens that just looked too adorable. And torch a catlady’s place, just for good measure. For as usual, his pleas of “I can explain”, “This isn’t what it looks like” and “It wasn’t me” didn’t exactly work, as soon, guns were drawn at the motto “Shoot first, ask questions later”, became the saying of the day. <br><br>Jumping, somersaulting and twirling, the agile superhero dodged the bullets that whizzed past his slender body, as he darted to the balcony like an Olympic gymnast, before leaping and launching weblines, swinging hundreds of yards away before the cops even reached the balcony.<br><br>This was a nice addition to his resume. –Spiderman, wanted felon for theft, battering and bad fashion sense-. But even as he swung away, he had a feeling he would soon meet the cat burglar again, and they would have a marvelous time with him pummeling her and her apologizing over this. She better!<br><br>Before the scene faded out, a silly little smile formed under his mask. No matter what, tonight had been fun. Feeling up a woman like her, just wow. And those curves! She definitely had her assets sorted. Deception hadn’t been the only attribute where she stood first in line when it was being handed out to humanity. When sleep finally came, back at his apartment, a few blocks over, in a significantly less prestigious neighborhood, one thought kept his dreams in overdrive. That of the hot variety.<br><br>-I wonder what would have happened if I had searched her more closely…-<br><br>The following morning saw a dark haired man of average height and slender, yet strong of body, rising from his bed with a bad case of bedhead. Short locks of dark brown stuck every which way, creating that whole sleepy, distracted genius look he had going for him. In essence, a genius was what he was, only with an unrealized potential, as he had found something more worthwhile to occupy his life with, a large responsibility that took all of the time he would have otherwise spent on inventing things, like non-dripping coffee cans and ‘even whiter’ tooth paste.<br><br>The man was relatively good looking, handsome, in a cutish way, offset by his sharp green eyes that seemed to burn with intensity and incredible intelligence. It was safe to say his IQ was higher than most anyone he would meet… and in case of some people, higher than most two or even three people he would meet. Stumbling into the bathroom, only kept on his feet thanks to his increased sense of balance, he brushed his teeth and went to work with the pleasantly humming razor. But it was only after the combined efforts of a hot shower and four cups of pitch black coffee that Peter Parker was awake. <br><br>Playing a nightly vigilante did lead to a heavy case of sleep deprivation. But the beauty of the human body was that it adapted. And his superefficient metabolism, courtesy of your friendly neighborhood spider, meant that his body remained healthy and in shape, as long as he had enough to eat, so, with gusto, he set to a rather rich and heavy breakfast.<br><br>Still munching his apple, he rode down the elevator, mentally cataloguing the best way to get to the New York public Library. He had some research to do for his newest article. Still, finding the way through the city on street level was entirely different from the liberty of soaring around above those same streets, only held up by elastic lines of white webbing. Still, he seldom swung around during the daylight, as he found his reputation aided by the scariness of the dark. Equally important, was the fact that at night, the cops aimed worse, and there were generally less witnesses to spot him and alert his presence to people who like to shoot him.<br><br>The only times he ever showed the red and blue spandex in daylight, was when a particularly powerful villain was roaming the streets, or a too heavily armed gang was involved in a major crime.<br><br>Now, though, it was simply Peter Parker, dressed comfortable in a black shirt and dark grey slacks, threading up the stairs to the impressive entrance of the public library. The massive, old building was a landmark, one he frequented regularly, even if it was only to swing around it to change direction. As he wrestled his way inside through the throngs of visitors and tourists, he felt his spandex chafing against his skin, hidden underneath his clothes, while his mask and gloves were hidden in his laptop bag, slung around his shoulder.<br><br>Once inside, past the overflowingly busy lobby, he headed towards one of the desks used by the librarian assistants. A pretty woman stood at the one he was heading for. But as he was rather focused on his assignment, and in the timid Peter Parker gaze, when he finally came face to face to her, he blushed lightly, averting his eyes shyly, as he asked, “Excuse me, miss, but where can I find the best files and books pertaining to the Cooper case of the sixties?” Instead of realizing how familiar those curves, even hidden, should be to him…<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Curiosity killed... (Muninn and RNArkaniel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Muninn</strong> on <strong>21-05-2010, 11:47:00</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<span style="font-size: 10pt;" class="bbc_size">If duping men could be classified as a job, Felicia would have a full-fledged career out of it by now.&nbsp; Tricking the spider this time had been easy enough but as the famous idiom goes; fool me once, shame on you; full me twice, shame on me.&nbsp; The next time they’d meet he’d definitely be on his guard for any tricks or slight of hands.&nbsp; It would be a challenge.&nbsp; She looked forward to it.<br><br>After their little rooftop tryst Felicia the cat made it safely to one of her safe houses (a “coming soon!” florist that seems to never open) and, eventually, home.&nbsp; Her mind did wander and wonder over the fate of the wall-crawler and the souvenir she had left for him, but not for long.<br><br>Back home she quite literally peeled herself out of her black suit, the wet material offering some resistance to being pulled away from her damp flesh.&nbsp; She really needed to invest in a waterproof suit, yet another thing to add to her to-do list.&nbsp; Once liberated she left it to dry, and pulled on a downy bathing robe, when she glanced at her bedside digital alarm clock fatigue nipped at her.&nbsp; Okay, so maybe no tea tonight but definitely a bath.&nbsp; Sweeping u pa remote she punched in a few buttons and tossed it down and stepped into her favorite room – the bathing room.&nbsp; Her entrance was accompanied by the mournful voice of a tenor sax crooning into the still apartment coupled by the steady throb of a bass line and the hiss of a snare drum.&nbsp; The floor was a smoky granite tile, there was a small glass-encased shower stall, across to this was the spacious gleaming mirror and white granite sink covered in a variety of products, to the rear a sizable Jacuzzi bathtub took up the back on a raised step.&nbsp; This is where our thief was headed, flicking the slivery fixtures so a jet of steamy water began to fill it with a hiss.&nbsp; Leaning over the filling bowl she poured in some fragrant bath oils from ornamental glass bottles followed by some Mr. Bubbles bubblebath – hey, there was no fancy shmancy brand out there that could beat Mr. Bubbles!&nbsp; As the tub filled she left to investigate the rest of her home.&nbsp; <br><br>In the narrow hall leading to the front door she found a note that had been slipped under her door, without looking at it she instantly knew who it was; Thomas, of course.&nbsp; That guy could not take a hint to save his life. He and Spiderman could swap stories she mused.&nbsp; She also mused over the idea of Thomas and Spiderman being one and the same –oh, how rich!&nbsp; She scooped up the tin enveloped cluttering her hall and instantly tossed it onto a growing rainbow of envelopes, her name scrawled across them from a variety of hands.<br><br>Next, she swung by the fridge and pulled out a ripe plum, biting into its bruise colored flesh, the tangy juices from the swollen fruit dribbling over her full lips, a pink tongue darting out over her sticky lips.<br><br>Back to the bathroom she flicked the bathwater off and stripped out of her bathing robe, the tub was filled with white, frothy, fragrant foam sizzling as dozens of tiny bubbles popped here and there.&nbsp; Felicia slid one foot in, then the other, shivering in delight as the hot water embraced her chilled skin with complete warmth.&nbsp; Soon the other foot joined its twin in the tingly warmth and she submerged the complete expanse of her pale skin, sighing with content pleasure, green eyes sliding shut, steam and bubbles crowning her shoulders and the top of her buoyant breasts.&nbsp; The chill that clung to her flesh quickly died and the dreary fatigue melted into serene drowsiness.<br><br>----<br>The following morning she awoke to the maddening digital claxon of her alarm.&nbsp; Guh, she hated mornings.&nbsp; She slapped the snooze and could swear she had just gotten comfortable again when the screaming staccato beeps started again.&nbsp; The cat grumbled moodily, saying some rather unflattering things directed at the alarm’s mother, and sat up.&nbsp; Her snowy hair was an erratic halo around her head.&nbsp; <br><br>She sniffed and realized her nose was a bit stuffy, and her throat felt scratchy come to think of it.&nbsp; Damnit.&nbsp; She hated getting sick.<br><br>To make a long process short Felicia awoke, tossed on a wig and some athletic wear and went for a short jog, hoping to wake herself with the familiar routine. Then it was back home for a quick shower, a healthy breakfast that she strongly wished would become maple syrup drizzled waffles through her sheer will alone (but failed. Hey, you think she kept her bombshell figure without effort? Psh).&nbsp; <br>More time than our bright report was spent primping and dressing.&nbsp; She felt like shit by the time she left but that was her own fault.&nbsp; She wore a smart black skirted suit cut for her figure, the trim skirt cut around 6 inches above the knee, the blazer was open at chest level revealing the silk lilac shell beneath it, the collar dipped down at a shallow V, the point of the V ending just where the cleft of her cleavage began, and she walked with confidence in heels that would kill a normal woman.&nbsp; To top this ensemble off she wore a beetle-shell black colored wig made from real human hair painstakingly arranged and worn so none of her natural white hair would be shown beneath, a black pigment was added to her delicate lashes and arched brows.&nbsp; There was no attempt to play a super hero at work so she herself skipped out on wearing her suit under her.&nbsp; There was a strict professional dress code at the library for its workers and Felicia enjoyed skirting the edges of what the old farts upstairs would consider “decent.”&nbsp; The library and everyone who worked there knew her as Felicity Harmon and the silver name badge worn on her lapel reflected this, also stating she was New York Public Library employee.<br><br>She arrived at the grandiose Stephen A. Schwarzman building in a grey mood, it got worse within the first 10 minutes.<br><br>It seemed a librarian had called in sick with food poisoning from sushi, which left the library short-staffed by one, granting Felicia desk duty for a few hours between her archival appointments.&nbsp; Normally she did not mind the flow of boob-gawking mouth breathers that felt it necessary to ask her as many redundant questions as time allowed so they could have more time to stare at her chest or work up the nerve for her phone number.&nbsp; Today, however, with the start of a sinus headache coupled with a low-grade fever – Leesha was not a happy cat.&nbsp; She was beginning to feel downright miserable and this was written all over her body language as she stood over the hardwood front desk, antique and grand, her features pinched with the pressure she felt growing between her eyes.&nbsp; Her green eyes, which normally were bright and laughed having a definite keen and reticent depths seemed darker and shrewd behind the black framed spectacles she wore.&nbsp; <br><br>Our pseudo dark-haired beauty looked up at the tall man shyly approaching her from her work-related appointment book.&nbsp; <br><br><em>“Excuse me, miss, but where can I find the best files and books pertaining to the Cooper case of the sixties?”</em><br><br>Was he blushing?&nbsp; How charming.&nbsp; <br><br>She spoke, but her voice was slightly deeper thanks to the slightly irritated throat and pressured sinuses.&nbsp; <br>"The Cooper Case?&nbsp; You can either head to the Milstein Division for bound literature and research on the case or to the Microforms Section, Room 100.&nbsp; They'll have a generous collection of newsprint about that case during the trial and investigation as well as afterwards."<br><br>She pointed out the location on the laminated map of the library that lay across the desk between them both, her mannerisms cool and strictly business-like. Then she had a thought....<br><br>"Is this for educational research or something else?&nbsp; If you have the right clearance you could also set up an appointment to access the archives, which houses materials not normally available to the general public."<br><br>'Felicity' looked up at the man at that moment and studied him while he spoke.&nbsp; &nbsp;He was fairly average – tall, brown hair and matching eyes, a thin or at least a moderately athletic frame (it was hard to tell with the clothes he wore), his face bore enough handsomeness to be worth a second look.&nbsp; <br><br>He was entirely and fabulously unremarkable.<br><br>Yet his mannerism pricked the interest of the cat in her beneath the misery to tease him... <br></span>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Curiosity killed... (Muninn and RNArkaniel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Arkaniel</strong> on <strong>25-05-2010, 14:59:27</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Her answers were useful and to the point. She obviously knew her business well. Her offer about the archives did surprise him. As a high grade reporter, even free lance as he was, he should have the proper clearance to access most anything even remotely public. Only classified or private things were not for his eyes. Still, as any good investigative reporter could tell, even that didn’t exactly stop them, though they could never use such information as a direct source, only to find links to actual evidence and witnesses. A bit of hacking and sneaking in, as well as bribing or flirting could get you access to even the most unlikely top secret files. Unfortunately, Peter was no good at the flirting his way in part, nor did he usually have enough funds to bribe his way in, except for maybe a dinner or a date, the latter which usually was a no, as his flirting was atrocious and close to non-existing.<br><br>With her replying, he chanced a glance up again, and was immediately sold at her looks. Dark hair, eyes that looked more like precious gemstones and curves that would have any lesser man drooling with desire. A pretty face that somehow seemed familiar, even though he had no memory of ever meeting this woman. He was sure he would have remembered. Even without a flirtatious bone in his body, or at least, the lack of courage to do this without a mask on, he knew a gorgeous woman when he saw one.<br><br>He did notice a more miserable look in her eyes, as if they were a bit glassy and clouded. Added with her slightly reddened nose and the almost imperceptible scratch in her voice, he concluded she had a cold. With the lovely weather of the past few days, a combination of oppressively hot, sweaty hours, mixed with day long icy showers of cloth-soaking rain. Definitely a weather that made one perceptible for that naughty little virus that was so incredibly annoying.<br><br>A sincere expression formed on his face. Swinging around in a skin tight sujit through all types of weather meant that Peter was intimately aware of all the variations of the common cold. By now, his natural immunity had risen that he practically immune to it, but dealing with beings like Hydroman, being tossed in a freezing Hudson, or fighting for hours in wet snow still affected him.<br><br>“Can you show me the archives please?”<br><br>He showed her his press pass, with the added clearance, hoping it would suffice. <br><br>“I think the information I am looking for is more likely to be stored there. Would this pass be enough clearance to be allowed access? It should, but one can never be sure.”<br><br>He tried to act suave, but only was averagely charmingly. To give credit where credit was due, he was not a boob-gawking mouth breather. Peter had been raised with politeness and respect for other people. That meant no inappropriate gazing. Still, her chest was rather inviting, even as covered as it was. It warranted a short look, but after that, he mentally scowled at himself before focusing completely on her face again.<br><br>“And are you all right, miss? That looks like the start of a nasty cold. Caught outside in the bad weather? Or was it more of a dusty and drafty archive in the basement? One should never underestimate the retribution those old tomes might demand with their moist and chilly atmosphere, for being placed in a basement, so below them.”<br><br>A bit of the joker that was Spiderman came through, as he delivered his questions with humorous streak, his eyes twinkling pleasantly, a smile forming on his lips. Geeky perhaps, but Peter Parker was one of those people that was raised with and believed in laughter being the cure for everything. If he could draw a smile, at least, from this woman, she might feel a bit better, or at least forget her miserable cold a little bit. Plus, making an attractive woman laugh was great for his self-esteem. Who knows, perhaps he might actually be successful and tack on an invitation for coffee or… if he dared, dinner.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Curiosity killed... (Muninn and RNArkaniel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Muninn</strong> on <strong>30-06-2010, 13:19:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<span style="font-size: 10pt;" class="bbc_size"><em> “Can you show me the archives please?”</em><br><br>Felicia took hold of the pass, making sure to check that the photo and name matched the man in front of her, whether the newspaper or magazine her worked for was indeed a legit organization and that it had the proper watermarks and serial numbers – well, he worked for the Daily Bugle and thankfully she was quite familiar with the press passes from New York’s biggest newspaper.&nbsp; She’d had her fill of would-be Sherlock Holmes’ who had access to a fancy printer and laminator; kids who had too much time and the regular crazies who were completely convinced that there were top-secret government files located in the archives. <br>Plus, well, let’s be honest here; she had her own fair share of experience in forged IDs.<br><br><em> “I think the information I am looking for is more likely to be stored there. Would this pass be enough clearance to be allowed access? It should, but one can never be sure.”</em><br><br>She responded with a curt nod, handing his press badge back to him before flipping open the thick daily planner in front of her and rustling through the pages until she reached the current date.<br>“I’m sorry, Mr. Parker, but it’s not quite that easy.&nbsp; Normally you have to make an appointment at least 24 hours in advance.”<br><br><em> “And are you all right, miss? That looks like the start of a nasty cold. Caught outside in the bad weather? Or was it more of a dusty and drafty archive in the basement? One should never underestimate the retribution those old tomes might demand with their moist and chilly atmosphere, for being placed in a basement, so below them.”</em><br><br>Felicia was momentarily caught off guard at his innocent question, and looked up at this stranger with a startled look, she really was off her game this morning.&nbsp; She cleared her rasping throat and looked back down at the book.<br><br>“I’m fine, thank you.&nbsp; One should never underestimate the distance between your front door and your car without an umbrella in such weather.”<br>She wasn’t sure why but his off-hand question made her feel uneasy, maybe it was because he was a reporter, they’d do anything for a story, wouldn’t they?&nbsp; Then it hit her: he was flirting. Of <em>course</em> he was flirting, gee now she felt like a complete doofus. Normally she tried to toy along this line but her miserable state just found any sort of flirting attempt downright obnoxious at best.<br><br>Finding what she needed Felicia turned her attention to the desktop humming besides her, quick digits clacking away at the keys, the glowing monitor reflecting in glass of her spectacles.<br><br>“You could set up an appointment for tomorrow, if there are still slots left, reservations are made in two hour blocks and you may reserve multiple blocks if an extended period of time is needed.&nbsp; However…”<br><br>Her fingers abruptly stopped their assault on the plastic keys as she turned her apathetic green eyes to him once again.<br>“You can also choose to sign up for a reserve seat in case one of our clients does not show up – I have to warn you that it doesn’t happen very often but lie is full of unexpected surprises.&nbsp; If you need that information ASAP I suggest this method as well as booking a reservation.”</span><br>
			</dd>
		</dl>
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