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 All That Glitters Is Not Gold, Tag: Selina Kyle
selina kyle
 Posted: 27 Mar 2018, 05:15 PM


The Minister of Magic. The Minister; the Ministry - the corners of his mouth framed those shipwreck words and her mother's memory snagged on the wreckage, still malleable and amoebic. She'd worked for them. She could've worked for him. One could only draw sharp things with sharp things, entailing blunt beginnings and pointed ends - mercy g(on)e (/) with(in) the battlefield.

This was pure, dumb luck. It must have been.

One in ten, one in a million - he was a straggler in seven billion exempt from blind clarity; questions began to leak like overrun rivers, excess spillage, curiosity drained about the tragic heirloom of a skeleton balled beneath her clothes. Had Oswald Did Oswald know her mother? Would he know where she was, now?

She realised too late that his sardonic quip had gone unanswered, his insult registering but failing to compute before her lengthy hesitation; made self-conscious her blanching, she snorted and offhandedly justified herself with a snapped, "why bother with 'em when I can get everything I need from people like you, fuck-rudder?" Albeit, not the strongest response she could've come up with, but she was willing to go with it if it meant wiping that shit-eating grin off his face.

No such luck, though - the next insult only seemed to amuse him, but, nonetheless, she huffed in some vague semblance of amusement, eyes half rolling. "Yeah.." she sneered back at him, "just thought you needed a reminder."

The threat of violence, though, seemed to sink in much more effectively - there was a queer discomfort that burdened his adjustment, and her eyebrow quirked in a noncommittal questioning, though she still stared intently up at him, solidifying her threat with an underlying feline ferity, unmoved despite his eventually dismissal. "How crass," she parroted, a shrill, mocking mimicry of his tone. She sniggered under her breath, and retorted with a sarcastic, "because you're so much better."

The mansion definitely appeared to be a better alternative to the streets for the time being, though both options ran the risk of being butchered. Their lavish surroundings would do - if she survived the night, the vast majority of this decor would make for good money; she'd snatch a few souvenirs once she skipped out. Hell, she'd be in the clear for months if she managed to nab the right things.

Speaking of.. There was a predatory curiosity in her motions as her eyes snagged on the robot hanging precariously upon the edge of the table, mechanic limbs just short of her pocket - though her initial reaction had been to recoil, place distance between her and the robot, the sudden motion and lack of support had the thing rocking off-balance and topping off the edge, and she acted on instinct, shooting one leather-clad hand out to catch the thing before it hit the ground.

With the guise of reckless inquisition, the girl tilted her head at an angle and righted the robot in her hands, using the motion as a diversion to hide the fact that, since they'd arrived, she'd been subtly shuffling for the door, intent on getting closer before she risked bolting. He was a politician, after all - she couldn't trust him not to try anything with her. "What's this s'posed to be?" she queried, toying lightly with the seemingly sentient metal.. thing.

Of course, it was all just a filler, a placeholder for real conversation - the moment the distance between her and the door had closed sufficiently, she threw the little thing across the room as a diversion, the robot crashing into the floor, before she dove towards the door, intent on getting away from him, ring and all.
queen of unorthodox insults. read: fuck-rudder.

edward nygma
 Posted: 4 Apr 2018, 06:32 PM

The brief pause in their exchange had been taken by Ed to mean that he had won their current battle of words, and he was already smirking smugly by the time the girl bothered to reply to him. He was entirely prepared to rally back of course, when she did finally speak, though that was before he’d heard what she’d actually said. He actually recoiled a little in confusion at the insult she used to round that off with. “What, that’s not even a word, you just made that up!” Admittedly he was definitely not up to date with street kid lingo in general, hence why ‘sugar daddy’ had slipped past him earlier, but he at least knew that those two words held meaning together. This, whatever she’d just called him, was utter nonsense though, and he refused to be insulted by something that didn’t make sense. If they were going to spar, they were going to do it properly.

He tutted when she attempted to mimic his tone, muttering, “I sound nothing like that,” back at her out of reflex. It wasn’t the first time someone had echoed him though – in school people used to copy the odd things he’d say and repeat them back at him for weeks later, and telling them that his voice didn’t sound like their impression had done nothing to make them stop, so he doubted it would be any more effective here. “I am actually,” he replied to her next comment, far more confident in his delivery of that one, despite the fact it was about as useful as the last thing he’d said in terms of actually progressing the conversation in a way he would like. Surely she’d just disagree with him after all, and they’d bicker about it and get nowhere in the process.

Once they’d arrived at the home, and the robot’s independently planned poor attempt at trying to steal back Ed’s ring was noticed, Ed found himself flinching towards it to catch it as it began to overbalance entirely. It had taken him months to build that, and it’s not like the parts were fantastically cheap – though he was fairly certain it would survive the fall with no real damage, it was still not a risk he was willing to take unnecessarily, just in case. But the girl caught it herself, and Ed relaxed slightly, letting his own gaze sweep over her curiously to see whether she really was interested in the piece of technology she currently held in her hands.

She… seemed to be. And she was asking about it, which was good enough for Ed. He smiled proudly, though it could admittedly come off as smugly, puffing his chest up a little as he began to introduce his invention. That is a technomagic robot of my own design. It’s quite a remarkable feat of engineering actually, it’s made fro- hey!” His concern for the robot’s wellbeing far outweighed any attempt to logically work out why this crazy girl might have suddenly chucked something across a room to ensure his eyes were sufficiently distracted. In fact, he was several steps towards the fallen bot before he’d even realised she’d bolted. “No, WAIT!” he cried after her, turning on his heel so quickly he didn’t bother to consider where he was placing his feet as he tried to chase after her again. Which meant he didn’t notice that one foot had hooked around the leg of a chair tucked under the table until he was already careening to the floor from tripping over it.

Meanwhile, the robot had slowly clambered upright again from where it had bounced off a wall and landed hard on the wooden floor, and was beginning to walk towards its maker. It had picked something up from the corner of the room before it had moved though, and was holding it tightly in one hand as it approached the pile of limbs that was Ed, who was still groaning slightly and trying to straighten himself back out again. The man soon gave out a yelp though at a sudden painful pressure, and looked down to see the small metal creature trying to shove a silver washer onto Ed’s finger, pushing with too much force without realising the hole was in fact too small. “Ow, stop that, why are you-” His expression lightened from irritation to almost pity as he realised what the gesture was supposed to be. “You can’t just replace it, it’s not the same.” He caught himself before saying ‘thank you’ to the little thing though, because it really was ridiculous to think it was doing it out of actual care and not simply a programmed empathy. He took the washer from it anyway, mostly to make it stop, and picked it up with his free hand as he climbed back to his feet.

Glancing between it and the door that their new guest had long since disappeared through, he felt his heart sink at the realisation that she, and the ring, were long gone by now. He'd find her, he'd get it back - he had to - but for now at least she had won this round...

selina kyle / 866
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