As You Wish

October 30, 2017:

With their cards now on the table, Catwoman comes to a decision.

Apartment, Gotham

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions: Batman

Plot:

Mood Music: [*\# None.]


Fade In…

***
Time has passed, maybe three, four days without any interaction between Selina Kyle and the cat statue or the genie that's stuck with it, whether he's been inside or out on the town, so to speak. She's also been busy, getting in at all hours of the night. Work never ceases when you're self-employed.

Isis has been scarce, keeping to the bedroom where the food and water has been moved. Ventures out into the apartment itself have been scarce.

Late at night, somewhere around 3 in the morning, one of the large windows is opened from the outside, a hidden spot triggered to do it although few people, if any, could get there in the first place. A dark figure slips inside. Catwoman is home, and she saunters over to the kitchen table to unload a variety of gems there, humming to herself.

Idly, she says, "Cat, or whatever you feel like being this time? We need to talk."
***

Barely a second passes by after those words are uttered and an archaic yet well dressed butler is seated on the edge of the table not far from the gems. Simply appearing out of thin air as if he's been seated there, waiting all along for that request.

"Ooo. Not bad." Grymalkin muses, one leg folded over the other, reaching at his side and lifting the closest gem between gloved finger and thumb. Lifting the glimmering crystal he inspects each faucet carefully, squinting with his blue eye. "I admit my appraisal skills have gotten very rusty.. I'll need a refresher course."
Lowering the stone he smiles to the thief, "Come to a decision have we?" Genuine curiousity is held in his eyes. Most people on Earth are utterly predictable, but he does not know precisely which direction this feline will jump.
She certainly makes things interesting.

***
Catwoman's haul isn't full of cat-themed things this time around, but she certainly looks pleased with herself. "Oh, you know how it is. Kitty has to keep herself in good form, after all. We can't have me ending up inside a cage like some stray." She plucks the diamond back from him as if to say 'mine,' noting afterward, "I see you decided to play butler tonight."

The pouch in one hand is refilled with the night's score, then placed atop the fridge of all places. From there, the costumed thief turns back his way, rubbing her gloved hands together for a few seconds. "As you may have noticed, I had an easy time of it tonight." No damage to the catsuit, no scratches, scrapes, or anything so much as resembling a blemish. "But it's not always that simple. I don't want it so easy any amateur cat burglar could pull off what I do, but I've been thinking about a new look. That shouldn't be so hard for you to do, hmm?"
***

"I didn't 'play' Butler." Grymalkin states with indignation as the diamond is plucked easily from his grasp. He folds his arms and closes his eyes as he states, "I served as a man-servant for one British Lord nearly two hundred years ago. At least that was my day job." He furthers, "I've managed to lose the accent. I've been trying to Americanize my English of late. It pays to learn dialects quickly in my experience. Besides.. This American version is so nonsensical it's been a blast to learn." He grins.

Rubbing his gloved hands together he looks upon her as she suggests such an easy haul, "Aaah, indeed. Nary a mark upon you when you stole me as well. Clearly you are bereft of challenge, my dear."

As she suggests she needs a new look, the Cat Genie harrumphs, turning away as he mentions, "Fah! I've told you before. I've fashioned hundreds of gowns in my time. A new wardrobe would be trivial."

***
"Fine, fine. So you /were/ a butler. I hope you enjoyed it. Being in servitude to someone else isn't really my thing," Catwoman explains with enough of a smile that suggests an intentional choice of words, just to see what kind of reaction it stirs, if any at all.

She pushes the goggles up away from her eyes, resting them against her forehead as she plucks a cat's string toy on a plastic wand from the shelving nearby. "Nonsensical? In what way?" she wonders. It gives him a chance to respond while she fiddles with the feathers at the end of the toy, nodding once to the observation about her appearance. "Sometimes, an actual challenge would be nice," she laments.

Finally, a smile. "Then it would be child's play to work up a new costume..if I were to wish for one."
***

The human face of Grymalkin is considerably easier to read than his feline version. While his smile never waivers there is a hardness that touches his eyes at the initial comment. He speaks out in an even tone, "Be glad you have choice. So far."
He then hops from the table, shoes clapping upon the floor as he begins to slowly pace. One arm folded behind the small of his back as he gesticulates with the opposite, "Have you ever listened to how children talk these days? I once heard a girl say 'I can't even with this!'. Does that sentence make a lick of sense to you? Half the time it seems Americans make up language as they go along, hoping their conversation partner divines intent by tone alone."

He then continues his meander towards Selina's sewing materials. Calmly lifting a pair of scissors by one handle, letting the cutting device swing open limply, "A new look eh? Bodysuits do seem to be all the rage with these 'superheroes' today. What do they call it.. Spandex? Something like that? Hmph. If it's a dozen copies of that cat suit of yours, I could assemble them in minutes. Once I have enough material, that is."

***
"I'm not a genie, and there's nothing magical for me to worry about there. I don't think I have to deal with that," Catwoman points out, gesturing toward the statue Grymalkin is tied to. "And I intend to keep that choice mine." The toy is waved around a couple times. No Isis to be seen, though another yowl can be heard from the bedroom she's hiding in.

A sniff. "Oh, slang and the phrases they use. I won't ask you to try to remember some of what you probably heard hundreds of years ago, so don't strain your brain thinking too hard about it," she lightly teases, then she approaches the sewing equipment as well. "Spandex doesn't protect anything, so you can forget about that. If I'm going out to do something, I need better protection than that."
***

As the Cat Woman describes what she is and is not vulnerable to, Grymalkin just maintains the smile that does not quite touch his eyes. He does not see fit to elaborate further, quite willing to let that subject lie where it is.

As she teases, the Butler oooohs, "Few languages are much the same as they were spoken as little as a few decades ago. I have no patience to relearn most of them."
He walks away from the tailoring provisions as she approaches them, dismissing them with a wave of his hand as he then furthers, "Better protection? Hrm, yes. I suppose these days even a child is an effective murderer with these new pistols. Not dying to bullets would be a plus in your vocation. Even the Bat Man never seems to use one."
Grymalkin considers, drawing his gloved fingers along his chin in thought, "I wonder if he's a Vampire. It would make sense after all. Silver claws could help there.."

***
Sticking more to the point now, Catwoman tosses the cat toy into the bedroom on the way past the door, then she lingers close by the sewing machine with its various scraps of clothing materials nearby. Some of it looks more like leather, some of it resembles latex, while another type is closer to something like neoprene. There are no costumes visible that feature that stuff, however.

"He's not a vampire," she deadpans, "Even if he's rarely seen except at night. He's also not an actual bat. I think we can leave the silver out. Anyway, I'm used to a weave that has some kevlar in it, but that doesn't work the best all over. You have to have room to move without any hindrances."
***

"Hm. Kevlar.. I think I've heard that word. Something soldiers use?"
Of course, the living anachronism does not seem to be terribly up to date with more modern materials developed in the last century. He does continue on his slow circular path about the apartment, waving his hand to and fro as ideas come to him, "Had we a few stone of Mithril I could have your suit stop a lancer on charging destrier." Pausing to consider, "Of course, I doubt the Dwarves would part with any. Greedy lot, that."

With an exhale he stops his pacing, turning to face her in full, "But if you're asking for something a little more.. Special. Then yes. I could craft for you something that could give these Gotham vigilantes a real run for their money. Who knows.. Maybe even that Iron Man I've seen in the news. If I can get good enough material that is.."

***
"Something like that," Catwoman confirms. "It's used in a lot of things, but especially armor because of how strong it can be. It helps protect against bullets but can also stop knives or be used for extra padding in certain places, like in a motorcycle suit." She squints at the mention of Mithril, quipping, "No, I don't suppose they would, and I never learned how to ride a horse. They're not exactly common in the slums of Gotham. Most people have more day-to-day things to worry about than having a horse."

It's after he speculates on something that might do even more to keep her safe that she rests her hands at her hips and says, "I'm listening." That's his cue to go on, but not before she adds, "I'd still have to do a formal wish, wouldn't I?"
***

Grymalkin chuckles as she elaborates on the lack of equestrian activities in Gotham, letting that point lie. He takes note of this 'Kevlar', filing it away for later inspection.

But what captures his attention the most is her latter question. To which he simply shrugs his shoulders and lifts his hands into the air openly, "As I am.. I am helpless. Save for a few small tricks as you've seen. Only a Master's Will can allow me to use the greater portion of my power and work wonders. Until then?" His arms lower, offering that rueful smile, "All I can do is talk."

***
Catwoman turns away from him, striding back over to the shelves to pluck the cat statue from it. She does this while watching him to see if there's any tell related to her possessing it physically rather than just having it nearby.

"All the stories I read had to do with rubbing a lamp. Does that mean if I pet the statue, you'll purr for me?" Her smile is a little too wide as she looks on again to see how he reacts, if at all. "After all, I'm not very experienced in dealing with this sort of thing, but I'm a fast learner."
***

Grymalkin watches her intently now. As she goes for the statue he tilts his head back, watching her down the length of his nose. The only emotion his expression betrays is one of hesitation. Her jab at the ancient myth invokes no retort from him as he simply watches her.
Perhaps weighing if he wants to go through with this himself.

"Kiss the statue. Say what you want. I take care of the rest." Grymalkin states in a slow, even tone. Making his choice.
Very carefully watching how she makes hers.

***
The two study each other for considerably different reasons. Catwoman is measuring Grymalkin's reactions. Grymalkin is trying to determine which choice to make. After all, he could refuse to tell her the trick, which might just prevent her from doing anything.

In the end, she mulls over what he tells her. "Is that all? Give the kitty a smooch? Well, before I do.." She disappears into her bedroom, calling for Isis. There's a mix of a happy meow and an irritated growl, for she still has that statue in hand as she says, "Come here Isis, and give mommy a kiss. You're still my favorite." A few more seconds and there's a 'mwah!' sound, then she returns to the central room sans actual cat.

"Just a little kiss, so Isis knows I'm not cheating on her," Catwoman says, amusement in her words and expression, then she places her lips to the side of the statue's face for a second, pulling back afterward.

"Make me a new catsuit that's comfortable to wear, looks good, but keeps me more protected overall."
***

Grymalkin's level expression devolves into puzzlement as she moves into her bedroom. He isn't left to wonder terribly long as she speaks with his current rival. He chuckles as he gazes upon the open doorframe with a grin as the Cat Woman has to reassure Isis so very clearly who's the most important cat here.

He nods his head in slow acknowledgement, a wry smile as he crosses his arms. Waiting patiently as she performs the ever-so-simple ritual.

There is no flare. No light. No sound. No sign that anything significant at all occurred. A simple peck on the curiously warm marble statue and that is all. Grymalkin makes no shift or change whatsoever. For all the world it could seem like he made her do something ridiculous for pure amusement value.

"As you wish." The suit-clad Butler replies in a soft, clear tone. An arm curls before him with the other sweeping aside as he bows formally.

With that.. He simply disappears. With that.. Time will tell just what the Cat Woman has unleashed.

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