Worthington's Welcome

January 16, 2017:

Catwoman, disguised as 'Nadya', scopes the new Worthington branch, and finds her research a bit…Outdated.
None the less she goes for the assets.

Central Heights - Gotham

Central Heights is the 'tower' , business and financial district of
Gotham. The cities most colossal skyscrapers can be found here, such as the
imposing Wayne Tower, the R.H. Kane Building (second behind Wayne),
sprawling Gotham Stock Exchange, stately Buford Building and several others.

Business thrives in Central Heights, it is busy day and night with corporate
parties and masses fluctuating from street to street building to building.
Living here so close to work is beyond pricey and very few do it. Many who
do live here live within their workplaces. Some of the world's most powerful
companies can be found in Central Heights / the Business District of Gotham.

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions:

Plot:

Mood Music: [*\# None.]


Fade In…

The invitation was sent via email. The new Worthington Industries branch in Gotham was starting up, taking over one of the former skyscrapers in the Central District - eight years after the earthquake nearly ruined the venture. Warren Worthington's father found the project useless. But Warren himself? After his parents' deaths, he championed the cause of opening the building. At least the other Warren did. This Warren agrees with the sentiment wholeheartedly. He's not shown his face much since he found himself much younger than his future self - and having not gone through all the troubles that he went through.

That's why the black tie affair draws more than one stare as the younger Warren, no more than twenty-five, arrives, dressed impeccably with suit and black tie. His wings are on display, and it seems he has come dateless this evening. Taking up a flute of champagne, the young mutant takes in the elegant lobby of the building and nods his approval. "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. And on behalf of the board of Worthington Industries, I welcome you to this bold endeavor into the streets of Gotham. We can do good works here, and soon, Gotham Steel, with the help of Worthington Industries, will be plating the strongest machines America can offer!" he says, gathering kind applause.

There is mingling to be done, however, and he takes a drink before he goes to brave the crowd of employees and distinguished guests that want to meet their reclusive and befeathered heir.

It is not hard to hear that another business has ventured to open doors in Gotham, let alone hear who is doing such. Research did not take much time at all to find how deep this honey pot is. The smile that comes back at Selina(but tonight Nadya) in the bathroom mirror, deep plum colored lips touched up, re-glossed and framing that sly smile well. Emerald colored eyes lined in delicately winged noir liner only do to angle those eyes mores in the felinistic style meant to be. All of it framed by long, straight blonde hair that spills over shoulders and down her back. "One more thinking he can make Gotham better. This'll be fun~" Spoken to herself before she turned, unlocks the door and walks out to the sound of applause at Warren's speech. The sight of wings… She must not have read -that- part.

A flute of champagne is taken from a passing tray and brought to lips while she watches, moving in a weaving path along the edge of the crowd.

Every movement though is careful, no touching one or another so it seems, but she was not dressed to definitely go unseen herself. The dress is a-symmetry from high on right outer thigh to brush over her stiletto encased toes of left foot that 'ballerina' lace up to calves in x's and o's of leather fabric.

The back of the dress is open completely save one strap that comes from over left hip and rises meeting the final strap that crosses from shoulder to just under opposing arm, making that nearly 'wrapped and tied on' dress come together and yet leave plenty to the eye.

So while they look elsewhere…

Smiling she twists lightly to free herself from a cluster as Warren's speech comes to an end, watching and taking the final sip in time to quickly change over empty for full in another passing tray.

It's really impossible to hide an 18 foot wingspan. As he speaks with a few shareholders, Warren takes a long drink from his champagne and sets down the mostly empty flute. After a few more meetings with various people, the mutant pulls himself away from the small cluster of people to go stand at the edge of the balcony as they overlook the city of Gotham. The lobby to the observation deck is made to be an extravagant affair, a place for rest and meals for the workers in a touch of class.

Leaning against the railing, he gives his wings a light flutter against the cold as he chuffs a breath and looks over the city. "Not much different than New York." he says mainly to himself, unaware of the beauty that is actively seeking him out, the predator stalking a prey - the cat seeking the canary.

The research she had done only really lead to images of his parents, his name on current affairs, but his 'mutation' was not the part of her business nor the high note of her concern. Her concern was the location of a few minor details.

Nadya had paused as a man stopped t speak with her, that Russian accent flowing with ease from stained lips bearing her false smile and that dark flutter of lashes. A few words exchanged and she placed her second empty glass in his hand as as he hurried to apparently go fetch more for her she turned and disappeared to head for the stairs, that small clutch of a purse held to her side and only a glance passed Warren's way as she silently walks past the balcony doors, not even a staccato of heels that should have a sound to carry.

… But just before her hand touches down on the banister she pauses, and backs up, turning to stand at the open doors, the pause some sort of thought before she slowly walks outside as well, now the sound of her approach heard lightly from heels.

"From up here, it is not." Accented Russian tenor interrupts his moment, no smile as she speaks at least until he turns to look her way, but it is faint.

"Below it is very different."
The voice, sultry and husky on the wind, catches Warren by surprise as he turns on a well polished heel. His wings automatically tuck into his sides. It's to make him look less threatening as he turns his attention to the lovely woman that stands before him at the balcony. "Ah, my apologies, I must have gotten lost in the moment considering that I didn't hear your approach." he offers with a warm smile as he moves away from the railing to meet the woman halfway.

"Are you someone that is acquainted to the streets of Gotham?" Warren asks curiously as the young man takes in the form of her and smirks a little plainly. "You're going to catch your death of cold out here." he says playfully as he sets down the glass and considers her before offering his hand. "Warren Worthington, III." he greets with a smile.

The balcony has the opening to lead back to the lobby, and of course, there's a small access to the side that leads directly to the offices above, including the building's safe as Warren is considering the Russian beauty. "Though you don't sound like you're from around here."

His file is a strange one, after all. A student at Xavier's Institute, the lone heir of the Worthington fortune, though his altruistic pursuits are to disadvantaged children, especially those of the mutant gene and mental and physical injuries. But he also does enjoy the company of a beautiful woman, having swirled several rumors of who he is dating, from top models to aspiring actresses, but never quite settled down.

"They have been my home since childhood." Not responding to him being lost in the moment, but when he approaches to meet her half way her stop brings the hand holding her clutch to fall to the side, resting it just over the curve of hip and top of exposed thigh, a stance of ease in response to his motion to draw in his wings. He did not intimidate her with them, but when her eyes slid over the contours of them resting at his side there is something else there, even on the edges of that faint smile.

The offer of his hand brings her gaze back to his, her own extending to delicately take the offering and shake. "Nadya. I am used to the cold."

A light tilt of her head and those longer bangs that dance just below dark brows slide away lightly, a scar etched just over one brow, marring the path of manicured arch. "I always wonder why those of fortune come here. Either to make themselves richer and the poor, poorer. Or white knight? What is it you seek in Gotham akin to New York?"

Selina had not read too in-depth on him, heir yes, but it seems she follied this one. But at least in Gotham you are well trained to expect the unexpected….

…Mostly.

"Everyone has an angle, I suppose will be the next words out of your mouth?" Warren says with a lift of a blonde brow to her as he smiles. "A pleasure, Nadya. Though the streets have done little to mar your beauty." There's a little draw of his breath, his wings moving slightly - a tell that she has definitely gotten his interest as he considers her in the same way she considered him.

"There's no white knights here. The former Gotham Steel was a giant in it's day. It's time to revive it." he says with a shrug. "Not to mention, it will give me a chance to see what is going on here and what I can assist with." he explains as he finds his way over her curves back to her eyes again. "And your business in Gotham?" he asks curiously. "I think I would know someone like you on the payroll." Except probably not, considering how little he does in the way of running the day to day affairs.

Nadya shakes her head, the smile that she had only grows. "Some things wear prettier on the surface." Stated as she passes him, her own gaze taking one more sweep as she nearly brushes but that predatorial sway keeps any contact form happening, only a phantom of it. Walking to the edge of the balcony where he had rested, she overlooks this part of the city resting her hands on the banister of cold stone. "I am not on your payroll, my business is Gotham is a bit of everything. Mainly I fund those in need." (Including herself!) A wavering flicker of fingers in a small dance to her side in gesture of here-and-there.

"If I was on your payroll, how would you know me? Worthington Industries has many on the payroll. This is no small party." A roll of her head back in a gesture to the light sound of voices and heavier laughter.

There's a little shudder as she passes by him, a catch of her scent on the air, mixing and mingling with the sandalwood and mint of his own cleaning as his wings tuck further not to actively touch her, but the feathers poof out slightly as he turns around. "Ah, so you have altruistic reasons to be here?" he asks curiously and grins. "Won't your date be disappointed that you abandoned him to come visit with the lonely bird in his cage?"

Amusement touches his features as she gestures back to the party. "They're mainly here to take it all in. I'm just the side show of it all. No real power yet, I just lend weight of my name." he admits with a chuckle. "Trust funds, terrible things. Even if it is for my own good."

An amber spice, something sharp, and beneath it all a smoothness to take that edge off, not vanilla… Not quite. More like a crème.

From her small clutch now she takes out her phone, screw being 'rude', the sleek screen lights up. "Warren Worthington the Third." Spoken into the search and he is pulled up. "If I wanted to know what the tabloids would tell me about you, I am good at finding that on my own, Warren."

But she does not read, instead she sets it aside. "For the most part altruistic." Though when he mentions her date she laughed. A full on laugh that even brought eyes to close and head to roll back slightly.

"You need to buy glasses with that trust fun money, honey. This cat is all alone and sent a wanna be suitor on an errand so I could be alone. Funny how it lead me to the bird in his cage. Not so lonely, hm?" A tilt of her head as she sweeps her gaze back to him again, turning now to face him, leaning her hip against the banister.

"Then, why are you still here?"
"My name on the building. Jumping off the edge and flying off isn't an option." Warren says with a chuff of laughter. "That and I hear around here that there's things that fly in the night that could be a lot more dangerous." he points out as he comes to stand at the edge with her. "A cat, huh?" he says as he looks her over. "A little too young to be a cougar, Nadya."

"And I may be intrigued. A woman that comes here with a suitor, departs that suitor to come hang out with the freak with wings." he says with a grin. "For every one of those stories that's linked me with someone, there's another story about how mutants like me are despised and hated. I don't get to hide what I am. And believe me, I tried. But I've come to accept it - and use it to help others. That's why I'm here."

The smile is a smirk now, dimpling lightly one corner of her lips in the rise, those eyes narrowed slightly in her amusement. "The Bats you mean? Some demonize them, others call them Gotham angels, in truth they are the gargoyles. But now Gotham has its angel, does it not?" He closes the gap once more and huffs out a laugh at his words, shaking her head lightly and pressing her hand to her chest as she looks him over slowly.

"I did not arrive here with him, he likely was hoping to leave with me, but again. He went to get champagne refills for two and got two all to himself." A lean forward now and her finger presses lightly on his tie, nails manicured to points trailing over the edge of it.

"I just needed air and got more company instead. One insistent upon knowing about the male company I keep while he also depreciates his own value when we both know better." A straightening of that fabric strip, but slipping that knot lightly in the process.

"Sometimes hiding is all some have in order to help."

Her gentle touch against his tie brings a shudder from the winged man, as his feathers fluff slightly and Warren chuckles. "I'm not much of an angel. I have my vices." he promises with a grin as he watches her hand trail her chest, accenting her already perfect features. "It seems that my own pursuit of air has found me in some rather ravishing company as well, Nadya." he manages to say as he considers her eyes and features.

"Would you like to return to the party and mingle a little more? I promise I will provide you with more company than you may want, though."

Nadya smiles wider then, teeth flashing and narrowing those eyes, emerald shadowed by the thick rim of dark lashes. The sound of his feathers in their play turns that smile and something in her features a pleasure, feline like that if she could she'd likely ~purr~. The loosed tie is now slid back up with both hands as she tightens it, sliding both back down and then gripping her phone and dropping it back into her clutch.

"Don't make promises you cannot keep, Warren." But that smile does not fade it only leans more to the side of devious as that dangerous nearness of a whisper between them is opened further so she could turn on heel and walk away from him back towards the party.

"Let a girl go make some adjustments… And I will gladly see how far this goes." Pausing at the doorway that figure is silhouetted against the backdrop of lighting and mingling while her hand rests upon the doorframe and she heads for the ladies room, her departure though drawing those nails across the painted wood door and leaving a trio of tiny gouges in parting.

There's a little squawk of surprise as Nadya tightens the tie back in place as he blushes faintly at the whisper of a promise - or a threat, sweetly offered as she starts to sashay and sway away from him and head to freshen herself up. "Wow." he manages to breathe again finally before she departs. His fingers run over the gouges in the doorframe and he arches a brow. How /interesting/ it could be.

With a chortle, he moves to go to mix and mingle with the crowd yet again and allow her the chance to do her freshening up, a promise of her company still upon him.

The door to the ladies room opens slightly, a pause and she steps out, clipping her clutch shut and walking with a confident purpose towards the hall and stairwell, again those heels silent until she reaches the top of the stairs and begins scoping for surveillance, as well as security while moving from room to room, if cameras capture her once she passes their scope will fizzle out and grey-screen on the security end.

'Nadya' lowers from that splayed brace along a wall with those claws flashing while wires slap against the wall in their release. "Why do they always have to be so damn nice…" A whisper under her breath and she slides down to land uon heels with an acrobatic ease to keep her move towards the room she desires.

"Come to momma…"

Down in the security lobby, as screens start to grey out, there's a whirl of activity. After realizing that it's not a glitch in the system and could be an active incident, a pair of security guards are radioed and are sent to head up the stairs to investigate the reason the cameras keep going out.

As Warren waits for Nadya to return from the bathroom, he starts to realize, much like her earlier suitor, he's been duped. However, something is amiss. Watching the two guards head up the stairs, Warren frowns and heads for the balcony. Falling over the edge, he drops several floors before he opens his wings to catch an updraft to take him to the top of the tower, where he uses his access code to take the helipad elevator down to the floor.

The ding of the elevator and door's opening announces Warren's arrival as the two security guard arrives at the floor and turn on their flashlights to look around. Only they end up catching against the wings of Warren. "Mister Worthington, what are you doing up here?"

Warren smiles and holds up his glass. "Oh, I was just up here looking for the good stuff." he says as he gives a little hiccup. "Sorry about that."

The guards look at each other, and turn to head back down the stairs. After they depart, Warren moves to sit on the edge of the desk in his office. He fills his glass with some brandy, and takes a sip and turns on the lights from his position. "So, you're still looking to powder your nose, Nadya?"

'Nadya' is anything but stupid, her movement down the hall is swift and when she finds the office with the safe she is crouched before it, the clutch opened to slide the pins as well as trap-tripping utensils from the lining, the cell hone queues up a new program. Not a phone at all.

But just before the final click she hears footsteps, and from her crouch those legs push her up, a silent leap to a bookshelf and using the old wood runner along the wall she hooks heel in one, braces the other on adjacent corner, arms spread to grip similar. Suspended in the dark corner she waits, the clutch and pins between lips, the lowered side of the a-symmetrical dress wrapped around thigh to keep it from hanging loose. 'Nadya knows what she is doing, but apparently so does Warren.

As the men are sent away she watches and when the light comes on her eyes narrow to a squint.

His words come and for a moment she does not respond, but then she drops to the ground silently like a shadow ripped of its solace when the "lights came on", the skirt unravelling for added effect to silently fall from lift back to feet.

"I said make some adjustments." Stated after the pins drop from lips into palm, the accent gone, now.

"Yeah. Adjustments to my bottom line, it seems." Warren says, pulling his wings behind him. "So. This is how you handle your charity work?" he asks. "Let me guess, your name's not Nadya, either." he offers as he moves to stand up, facing the woman as she continues her very feminine display. "I figured you must be dangerous, and I don't feel like paying for medical bills - so you tell me.."

He watches her, apparently unarmed, but his wings pull around him, forming a cloak of sorts. His eyes are hawklike, watching her for any threatening moves as he considers her, his features handsome but still sharp as he takes her in. "What had started out so promising is such a disappointment now." he rumbles softly. "So. Safe? Statues? Paintings? What are you looking to help yourself to tonight?"

Nadya's own look to him watches back. The thing about Gotham is you never underestimate. She moves slowly, deliberately, around him, that clutch tapping upon bare outer thigh with every step that keeps that pace eased and yet more like a stalkin the way her posture is held, still loftily, but far too eased and comfortable in that skin.

A turn of her head to look towards the shelf she now passes, fingers running across the polished wood, those nails barely scratching the surface. "I do what I have to. Bottom line: We all do." She states as she turns back towards him, a light drum of fingers on the surface as she leans now against it, that smile there, lingering with a light flash of teeth, but it narrows those eyes.

"For you and me both." But there is more to those words, as hollow as they may seem.

With a quick motion she is heading for those windows in a race, from around one thigh one of those criss-cross laced stilettos is not really a lace all the way. The whip uncoils with a light yank from hand beneath the slip of dress just before she leaps for the window sill to leave.

His own blue eyes narrow as Warren watches the woman pace around, turning to keep his front to her at all times. Apparently he's at least had some basic combat training. But then she speaks. "…you know, you could have at least kissed me before you tried to screw me." he says before the woman runs and takes a flying leap.

Never in his life did Warren Worthington think that he would be jealous of a whip and where it was tucked. He watches her for a long moment to make sure she's not going to be a smear on the pavement before he leans against the window to watch her swing away.

"Wow." he breathes to himself. Smitten? Perhaps a little.

The jump from the window has her spreading her arms, angling her body, almost like a swan dive, but in passing an outcropping of the building she even clutches a bag she had hung there earlier in the night, having already scoped. Using that leverage her body snaps straight and arches around to loose it from its hidden place.

Like lightning that whip cracks and catches another pillar and the momentum tugs her into a flip that lands her across. His words did not go unheard, those dark lips press to inner palm and the kiss is blown his way.

"Perhaps for both our good…" That none of it fell into place, her stealing from him, or what he had said perhaps… Because once she finds out what he funnels his money into, Catwoman may have felt a tinge of bad. But then again, her intents are alike, just for different children, different people, and different streets.

And with that, she is gone.

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