Owner	Pose
Monet St. Croix	It is a bank over in Gotham during a quiet day. For whatever reason, the place isn't packed and there's just some normal back and forth chatter going through it of security, tellers, personnel, and people in line going back and forth in the bank. Coming in the front sliding doors is a woman wearing a large trenchcoat. A very, very large trenchcoat that's more in the 'tent' style hanging almost several feet over in front of her.
Alfred Pennyworth	Ascending from one of the bank's private 'vaults' for safety deposit boxes, Alfred furrows his brow and adjusts the sleeves of his coat. Dealing with some of the family's more sensitive documents always does soemthing to him. Taking a moment to compose himself as his smile returned, the stately butler swept across the bank's floor to exchange handshakes and words with one of the floor managers. The latest entry to the bank only aroused some mild curiosity - it was Gotham after all - but an imperceptible adjustment of the watch on his wrist may have alerted someone that Alfred was more than a little vexed between years of time with the SAS and MI:6 and time with the Bat family telling him something might be off. This was certainly not his particular area of expertise these days and a casual shift in positioning to a more covered location may have betrayed his senses.
Jennifer Walters	Jennifer is in Gotham for business, but there seems to be something wrong with her firm's bank account, so she's here to settle things personally. "As you can see," she says, "I am, in fact, Jennifer Walters. /Not/ Jennifer Lawrence. As much as I would have liked to have been cast in The Hunger Games I simply didn't fit the part."     "I'm terribly sorry, ma'am," the bank manager says, "But I'm going to need some sort of ID."     "What, being seven feet tall and green isn't ID enough? Fine." She grabs her purse and rummages around in it until she pulls out her drivers license. "Here."     "Ma'am. This says you're 5'10" and have brown hair. You look nothing like her."     Jennifer rolls her eyes. "Oh, for goodness sake." She shrinks down to her Jen Walters persona and fidgets uncomfortably as her business suit is now ten sizes too large for her. "Happy?"
Monet St. Croix	Even as Jennifer goes to shrink down, the tall, highly suspicious looking woman wearing the tent goes to maneuver forwards. There's some sort of.. Very, very strange bouncing going on from th bits of the.. Tent hanging in front of her that's tightly closed tight in an elaborate not. "You! I have need of you!" There's a rather large fedora held over her face but if Jen were to get a quick look at her she would have.. Furs and stripes underneath.     Very much like Tigra. For Alfred, the woman definitely stands out. She walks weird. She seems weird and disturbing. Even eprhaps by Gotham standards.
Alfred Pennyworth	Women changing appearances is one thing during something close to legitimate business is one thing, Alfred had gotten used to that - but to blatantly call someone out? "Perhaps it's best if you remove some of your staff, old friend - if only for a moment. A luncheon, hm?" Alfred cautioned with a confident smile to his associate, patting the man on the back and shoving him away as his gaze focused on the scene unfolding before him. Drifting in a wide circle, he only continued to observe - even going as far as to pull out a cell phone and make an idle show of speaking into it in muted tones as he considered his options. His eyes even darted for the door once as the elderly man tensed with an old anxiety.
Jennifer Walters	The bank manager makes placating noises, but stops when that odd figure shouts out. Jennifer turns around and narrows her eyes. "What the heck is that? I'll be right back." She stands and grows back to her jolly green giant self and makes her way over to the figure.     "Can I help you?" she asks, putting a little menace into it.
Monet St. Croix	The woman ahems over, "Not YOU!" She would wiggle a.. Claw? Yes, a claw over at Jen, "That one!" She gestures over at the no doubt confused bank mannager, who goes, "This is highly irregular.."     The catgirl wearing the tent of a trenchcoat would ahem, "You will take me inside and give me everything!" That gets more stares over at her. Then a couple of guards approaching her.     "I'm going to need to ask you to come with me." One of them gestures at her, hand over on his sidearm.     "Excellent! I have need of more guides!" Then over with a flourish the woman goes to yank off the trenchcoat and tent..     And reveals a.. Large bodied catgirl wearing some sort of reinforced bodysuit with very, veyr, very, very, ..., very big.. Tracts of land.     Somewhere out there, the most famed inhabitant of Eroticon Six might be glaring, if she did in fact actually exist within this genre.     "All bow down to meeee!" She goes in a singsong voice.
Alfred Pennyworth	There's a definitive tapping at Alfred's watch, though a roll of his eyes betrays his assesment of things. There's a brief nod to Jen as he drifts from his perimeter vantage with a casual nonchalance and sidles over beside the would be 'cat burglar.' "Beg pardon, miss..." he begins carefully, adopting a tone usually reserved for his wards, "Perhaps it'd be wise to rethink your plans, given the locale and your, ah..." There was a disdainful pause as Alfred looked the woman up and down before shrugging, "Attire? I'm -sure- this is all just some bizarre miscommunication," he continued in a pointed fashion, hands clasped behind his back as he toyed with his watch.
Jennifer Walters	She can't help it. Her eyes go immediately to the catgirl's chest. It's just not something you can ignore. "Uhh..." Jennifer says, momentarily distracted. Tearing her gaze away and upwards she scowls at the woman. "I'm afraid I can't let you do that."     Alfred's presence catches her attention, though. "Oh, hey, Alfred! How's Bruce and the boys doing?"
Monet St. Croix	Then the catgirl goes, "I am The Mighty Endowed! All shall bow be-forrreee me!" Yes, she would speak of herself in third person starting wiht 'The' in her name. "Show me how much you adorrreee me!" Then she would go to.. There's no way to sugarcoat it.. Lift off her top. For anyone making some degree of eye contact, they would, uh..     Again, no way to sugarcoat it. Just be made to do what she said! For those unfortunate in the room to be caught up in the 'wait what' phrase, drooling would set in as they would stand still.
Alfred Pennyworth	"Oh, quite well, Ms. Walters - you know how it is..." Alfred responded offhandedly. Even as he tried to avoid any sort of acknowledgemet of the woman's particular blessings though, he was only human - and only a man. His agitation seemed to grow at some level of awareness of the fact as he made a pointed effort to focus on adjusting his cufflinks. "I'm afraid..." he began, huffing to himself in obvious frustration, "This isn't exactly a productive course of action." For a moment it seemed as if he might succumb - eyes darting more than once toward the sight above him, before his focus seemed to fall on some of those about him and he adopted a completely new personality - waving a hand around in a grandiose fashion. "Come now, you dogs, 'tis it not a more progressive age? Have you no -class-?" he quipped in a stage worthy fashion while pointedly avoiding any glance at the would-be bank robber.
Jennifer Walters	"Oh no you don't," Jennifer says. She reaches offscreen and grabs a censor bar and slaps it over The Mighty Endowed's chest. "We've got to keep this MUSH PG 13." She shakes her head sadly, "I haven't had to do that since that one time I fought Lactasia over on Marvel Revolutions."     "Come on," she says to the would be bank robber trying to defuse the situation. "Let's get your top back on and back outside, and I'll buy you a sandwich."
Monet St. Croix	The bank robber would be, in all her, err.. Glory.. Advancing and entrancing. "All of you! Come to me and bow before meee!" By whatever convenience of censor'y application, direct contact for the poor viewer would be held out of sight via ever so strangely convenient blockages, whether darkness or physical matter intersposed over.     Then she's staring over at Jen, "That makes no sense! What are you talking about? The Mighty Endowed demands you anss-purrr!"
Alfred Pennyworth	Rolling his eyes as the censor bar was applied, Alfred spun about on his heels and scowled in a suitably admonishing fashion. "This is hardly some -brothel- miss," he snapped, taking a breath as he dropped from his assumed role. "It's a place of business, and it seems to me as if you're out of your element," he continued in that same parental fashion. "Honestly, aren't there better and above all -safer- uses of your talents?" he asked. Even with such fortuitous measures to obscure his sight, Alfred made every effort to avoid looking. "Frankly, it seems like a waste of talent..."
Jennifer Walters	"Never mind," Jennifer quickly says, dismissing her fourth wall break. "All right. I don't think any bowing is going to happen. Alfred is right. You could make a heck of a lot more money if you had an OnlyFans. People would eat that up."     "Anyway," she says moving to take The Mighty Endowed by the arm, "let's get you out of here before you cause any more trouble."
Monet St. Croix	All view of her blocked off has the Mighty Endowed powerless. "You cannot do this!" She would lash out, trying to struggle free over of Jennifer's grip. This would have her trip as she would flail. And then she would start to fall forwards over in slow, slow motion over towards the ground. If not checked, she would, err.. Land cleanly on large.. Built in airbags, yes.
Alfred Pennyworth	If nothing but not a gentlemen, Alfred took the window of opportunity as 'The Mighty Endowed' turned and fell to rush forward. While nowhere near strong enough to arrest her descent, the man made a polite effort of helping her back up or the like as he shook his head in disapproval. "Robbing banks is hardly a profession for a young lady... if you -insist- on showing yourself off, why not something like..." he paused, making an effort to glance behind the woman toward Jen, "A model, or the like?"
Monet St. Croix	The woman is now on the ground, even as the woman goes and whines, "With the way I am, what else is there to do?" The way she was positioned was at least blocking off her.. Abilities. "I am the Mighty Endowed! The world needs to give me what it owess!"
Alfred Pennyworth	Nodding in at least partial agreement, Alfred makes an effort to help the woman to her feet. "Well, you are certainly right in at least one regard, miss - however, I fear you'll come to find the world doesn't owe you much of anything..." he replied in a stern fashion - straining with the help of those about to try and help the feline woman up. If nothing else, many seemed to have caught on to the butler's practices of avoiding any specific line of sight as he lifted an arm to drape about his shoulder. "At the very least, all -this- endeavor will net you is a trip to Arkham. If you insist on a life of crime, it's likely best you take it far from here," he continued, his tone shifting to that of a more understandig mentor. "But perhaps Ms. Walter's had the right idea. A meal and a drink, hm?"
Monet St. Croix	The woman is -really- hard to lift. Even with her arms on the ground and her trying to push herself up. Apparently what part of the costume -was- was to help with.. Stabilization. She's not going anywhere without some sort of lever to prop her up again. At least she's no longer lashing out or threatening. "Errr.. Thank you." She would offer. "And I didn't know what else to do when I was made into this." She would admit.
Alfred Pennyworth	Simple physics was a small matter. Alfred eventually caught on to just how endowed the woman was and - with some of the clout afforded by the Wayne estate - managed to secure the use of a piece of rebar no doubt loosened in some previous attack on the bank and with the help of one of the benches, managed to effect a simple lever and fulcrum device to accomplish his ends. Roughly. The butler was forced to drag men away at one point or another in various intervals. At the end of it all, Alfred did his best to try and support her while pointedly looking away despite his proximity to the obvious hypnotic assets in an effort to prevent any more 'outbursts.' "Think nothing of it, young lady. You're the one who's just gone about trying to expose themselves to the world. I promise you, i've seen worse displays in my time," he assured her, daring to cast a reaffirming smile in her direction. "But flaunting yourself like this won't do you any good in the long run,"
Monet St. Croix	The woman would huff, "I would have taken everything here and.." Then realizing that wasn't helping matters she would just grumble over and her tail would lash. But not over at Alfred, in more of an agitated manner as she would be propped up and sat down somewhere. "I just want all that I'm due." She would go to whine over and her ears would flick on down. A very cat like display from her over. "And, err.. Thank you. I.. Was Nina Dowd."
Alfred Pennyworth	Casting a disapproving glare about the bank, Alfred eventually took a seat down next to the busty 'villainess' and patted her hand while levelling his gaze at the floor. "Alfred Pennyworth, Miss Dowd. The pleasure is mine, I assure you," he offered after taking note of her ears. His eyes -almost- rolled - lifted, more accurately, as he restraiend the motion as he contemplated life in Gotham. "Taking 'what your due' is rather oxymoronic, hm? It seems to me, as if you'd be taking what was due to others. If it was due to you, you could go out and earn it - and it would come - since it's due," he offered in a hasty fashion as he treaded unfamiliar waters. There was more of that tapping at his wrist, fingers drumming on his watch, before he turned a smile toward the woman. "I think, Miss Dowd, given your particular... talents... you might find much -more- success in a more legitimate line of work."
Monet St. Croix	Nina's earswould flick back and forth even as she would shake the hand back. Her tail would bounce behind her over as she would grumble. But, at least she wasn't actively trying to flatten anyone or go on about her powers. "And what is there to do?" Apparently the job market for her.. Transmogrified state was perhaps rather limited when it came to.. Reputable sources of income? "Everyone lookedat me and laughed. Then I showed them." IT's more of an 'after the fact' sort of voice now, rather than 'monologue and rant in supremacy', so, progress?
Alfred Pennyworth	The question seems to raise Alfred's brow as he considered it. Old age and the nigh-omniprescient scope of surveillance the Bat Family entrusted to him seemed to be in conflict as he opened his mouth to respond and paused. "Well... i've heard there's certainly lucrative fields, if nothing else, on some of the websites and phone applications people are using these days - they're even taxed, from what i've gathered," he began carefully. He nodded along as if explaining and justifying to himself more than anything, waving a hand around absently. "Beyond that, well... Miss Dowd, I have no shame in what I do. I'm sure you can find some eligible... employer... who might enjoy having a young lady such as yourself working for him in an honest trade. Times being as they are," he finished, scowling to himself and shaking his head as he turned his gaze back to her in a steely fashion. "The fact of the matter is, even given... this, you can find -something- and if you don't, I think it just means you aren't trying hard enough. Not succeeding doesn't equate to failure. Failure is a product of giving up."
Monet St. Croix	Alfred's advise hits Ninja. Her face is rather easily readable as the idea goes through her ears. Clearly there's the 'if at first you don't succeed, rob the bank again' that goes through. THen remembering how that went (or at least who she's with) she apparently has enough sense to not mention that. "They're not dignified!" She would whine over with the flick of a tail and irritation. A clawed foot would twitch in irritation. But, she would at least not be trying to get someone mind controlled by her.. Abilities.. To get them to support her! Progress! "So who would you suggest?"
Alfred Pennyworth	Alfred gave a shrug - the sort of helpless shrug he normally reserved for family. Where once he was treading unknown water in a pool perhaps he now felt quite out of his depth. "I couldn't say, young lady - do you wish to know an itneresting fact?" he asked, letting out another huff. "Believe it or not, 'to buttle' is to work as a butler for someone. I work as a butler for someone, and I have to tell you, there aren't many people in the world worth buttling for these days," he offered as an answer. There was another pregnant pause before he focused his gaze. "The only thing I can say is that if you think you're due something, you'll find a way to earn it instead of taking it from other people - look at this whole display you've caused. I'm surprised Gotham's finest aren't crawling about here right now," he finished with surprising confidence, even though he knew quite well why and how the GCPD weren't involved at the moment.
Monet St. Croix	Gotham's finest may in fact be out there staring. Or taking photos. Or she's blockedo ut the door and they're having issues getting in. Or a number of other plot convenient things to permit such a discussion to go on! Nina looks over at him with the sort of expression that implied 'butlers are still a thing' in light confusion. But she would grumble mumble over at himw ith a whine, "Fine, I'll try." No promises, but he has been very nice to her. "And.. I'm sorry for trying to rob you?"
Alfred Pennyworth	There was a genuine laugh - loud and echoing in the bank's halls - as Alfred waved a hand about. "Oh, you're quite alright, Miss Dowd. Worse than you have tried," he replied with surprising warmth. "The fact is, you've said 'I'll try,'" he acknowledged without missing a beat, offering another reaffirming pat on the hand. "Now, I think between my friends here and the... understanding of the Gotham City Police Departmet, -you- might be able to just... saunter out of here. But you -must- understand how silly this idea is, don't you?" he asked in the quizzical fashion of aged adults trying to teach a lesson. "Imagine if that Batman fellow or the like had been about when you pulled this stunt, instead of Ms. Walters and I."
Monet St. Croix	Nina looks down over at the discarded censor bar that had hit her earlier, and then mutter about Ms. Walters being scarier than Batman. "Yess, err, thank you." She would allow, ears flicking back over. She was at least being polite and listening, which would.. Probably be impressive by Gotham standards. No one had been hurt (unless someone's wife caught them staring), no real damage had been done (beyond dignity). Even as the authorities would come in, one could -almost- say it was a happy ending. Weirdest of all.