Owner	Pose
Veronique Lalonde	The corner store was as good as any. Not very much in the way of security measures, and the old dude that owned the place probably wasn't as vigilant as someone younger. Sapphire had grinned behind her mask, feeling slinky in her skin-tight attire, and sneaky as a vibe. Veronique wasn't here, it was Sapphire, and precious things seek valuable things in return. Breaking the window was as just a matter of raising her palm to the glass...and push...and vibrate, until the pane was shaking in the housing and then cracking in a lovely spiderweb pattern. Sapphire loved the way it had split and fragmented like thin ice under a skater's blade. And her heart had leapt when she'd made a lovely jagged hole big enough to twist and insert herself into. "Heh." An actual giggle, and she's into the place for a little forbidden fun and folicking. Maybe she'd steal the best stuff and rearrange the furniture...or write something rude...a few small hijinx atop the other stuff. Icing on the cake. And she intended to take a bite out of everything she saw.
Cecily Winters	Cecily had seen it, the shape slip into the broken window. The old man's corner store. He sold everything there, it was all he had, really. The fox sighs, knowing there's nothing truly of value in there. Just waiting. She checks her gun, the magazine filled with wide, flat-tipped non-lethal rubber rounds. And she waits. Inevitably, the 'shape' comes out, carrying a bag. Then she blinks. Those bunny ears. That red hair catching the dim light. Those curves. She couldn't mistake that figure anywhere. While the nervous bun checks which way to go, the fox clears her throat.     "Ahem. /Miss Lalonde/..." she speaks in a tone that isn't anything close to anger, or law authority. Instead, it sounds more like a mother. A teacher. A Mistress. It's not a tone of voice that warns 'stop or I'll shoot', it's a tone of voice that comes with a command to get on one's knees and submit. So she uses that voice. That commanding tone. And waits to see what happens.
Veronique Lalonde	Sapphire felt so clever and sneaky. Her agile body had helped her avoid snagging jagged glass or broken frames on her way in and out. And she was leaving with a heavier load than going in. Pay-dirt. Jackpot. B&E Bun with another haul. She was so smart tonight, making sure she had her identity hidden with the brilliant idea of an outfit. Her expression in passing reflections, was like a committee of yes men and women telling her all she needed to hear. She was hot, hard-bodied and untouchable. A look of mischief and self-centered delight on her face, no cares for the poor Old fella and his property, just as long as she fulfilled an urge. 'What's theirs is mine' her inner mantra.     In the act of peering towards the best route of hopping away, 'the voice'. The shiver that runs through her starts in her belly and an invisible hand grasps her spine like the handle. Her throat constricts, feeling full and with the mental suggestion feels like a collar. She trembles and her knees knock together. A series of gasps, not able to take in enough air or stop the fluttering in her tummy. It all stops her dead in her tracks and her eyes widen and her bottom lip quivers. Her legs become wooden stilts, hard to balance on. She wilts to her knees and places her trembling hands into her lap as she peers around like a little lost orphan.
Cecily Winters	Of course it worked. Cecily knows this type. She doesn't leverage her authority like this often, but sometimes it's just necessary. And in the case of this little bun-burglar, it absolutely is necessary. It has the desired effect, the girl dropping to the ground. The many-tailed silhouette approaches and gets into the flickering bluish light of the old industrial lamp over the shop's door. She sighs, looking at the damage done to the window. "Mister Carmine has been a stand-up member of this community for nearly a century..." she starts, fingers brushing over a jagged shard of glass, not at all showing signs of pain when she leaves a trail of blood on the edge.     "He'd give you the shirt off of his back if you asked him for it. He volunteers in soup kitchens, donates everything he makes to charity. Even the owner of the block charges a discount rate for the shop space..." there's a 'crack' as she pulls the glass free and holds it in her hand, leaving a trail of dripping red as she approaches Sapphy. "...and everyone here is going to come together to help him fix his window, too... but you..." she holsters her gun and leans down, wrapping her now free-hand around the woman's neck and lifting. With her enhanced strength, it's effortless. Her grip isn't there to crush or harm, though. It's there to make a presence known. Like a collar. Or a choker. A claim of ownership.     The shard of glass in her other hand swipes here, then there. One to sever the connection from the girl's bag so that it falls to the ground, the other to 'snikt' right up the middle of her mask so it just gets cut away. Then Cecily is pressing her against the brick wall, the well-dressed 'Agent' making Sapphire's legs dangle about seven inches off of the ground. "You don't understand any of that, do you. You break, you steal, without a single care to who you hurt. If you put some thought into your crimes you'd know who to hurt. The right people. The officials who want to strip Carmine of his retirement. The corporate land owners who want to buy the block and hike the prices up. The corrupt cops who turn a blind eye to people like *you* vandalizing and stealing. The coffers that are overflowing you are so ignorant of, all for a little /thrill/."     She growls, those slit-eyes glowing behind her glasses. "I /hope/ that you're suitably /thrilled/."
Veronique Lalonde	Sapphy needs to run. But legs won't go. The feeling that she needs to tap into has had that reset switch booped, her legs hamstrung. The conflicting hot flash of relief and then dread take turns being on top like a couple tussling fox kits. Through eyeholes of her mask, her vivid green eyes stare like those of a doll infused with life. There's very few moments in life when she can be still, and it feels like an eternity as the Goddess approaches. Every movement seeming to have a measured affect, effecting Sapphy greatly. Her hands wrestle and tangle their fingers together, those at least are in motion. Rapid gesticulations of guilt and anxiety. The sight of blood, and the smell of it, make the girl's head cock in alarm. Gotta run, gotta bounce.     "Urk!"     She's levitating, lifted from gravity's concerns and replaced by being tethered to another force of nature instead: Cecily. Her legs twitch, muscles firing off uselessly. There's a sob from the girl. It's the knee-jerk reaction to having her plunder un-tethered from her possession. A strangled scream and her face is revealed and her body thrust up against the wall, her heels drumming back upon it with the rhythm of a jazz percussionist. She is quick, but she's caught and pinned. Her face, guilty as sin, winces and her face would pale if not for the rather dramatic predicament she's spotlighted in. The flush and shame of consequences catching up. Her staring eyes search out yours. Yes, this is that girl. This little selfish twit.     The growl has her try to lean back and away from you, but there happens to be a pretty unyielding brick wall she's being pressed back into while you lay into her with every thing she'd never even considered about this ill-conceived idea. Round after round of hard truth and things not considered. Beneath your grip, no doubt her pulse can be felt racing. And her mouth starts to move. Her respiration is off the charts, hot and quick.     And she smiles.
Cecily Winters	"Oh so you are, are you?" Cecily measures that smile, looking the girl up and down. She flicks the piece of glass away and turns her head, dragging her tongue along her wounded palm and fingers, wicking the blood away. You can see the lacerations cutting clean lines in her flesh and... slowly closing. Faster than any human should be able to, certainly. But she's not human. Not anymore. Those ears, those tails, those slit eyes, that preternatural strength. They're all clear indicators, whether inward or outward, that she's more. And while you, too, are more, she's very strongly inserting herself as your superior. "Thrilled? /Amused?/" she asks.     Then a tsk, a disgusted noise, "...you don't know the half of what thrilling is. If you get your rocks off breaking into curio shops then you wouldn't last a minute slinking through a vent or rappelling down a building after breaking into an office to steal million dollar information.... But is it really about the cost? You just want the fun... the payday is icing on the cake..." she lectures, slowly tightening her grasp, forcing the lack of air to make that vision narrow and fill it with herself. "...surely you yearn for more danger. Fleeing from street cops is nothing compared to evading corporate stormtroopers..." she growls as she grins, digging deep into her own experiences.     The fox clearly is some kind of thrill-seeker herself, but she learned long ago where to direct it. And right now, she wants to do the same for you. By any means necessary. "Use the second chance you were given for a better purpose, little bunny... and you'll find it to be more fun than you could possibly imagine..." she leans in close, her breath hot on your ear as she whispers it.
Veronique Lalonde	The bunny tries to smile wider, unable to nod, but the telegraphing is there, as she gazes back at you. With laser focus she stares at you as you clean your wound and not only that, but to seal it. The labs, of course. The labs, dumb bunny. Sapphire flushes hard, because now she's remembering how her second chance came at a lower price tag. Not like some others. She shows her teeth in a feral grin. She starts to reach up with her hands to the one that holds her place. Her painted nails gleam in the flickering light, making them look like little claws of her own.     Her fingers only perch around your wrist as she listens. Her hearing is cranked, but the meat of the message needs to penetrate. Her eyelids twitch as your alternative pursuits and dangers are proffered. Her smile faltering as she considers how lame what she's done is compared to higher stakes gambles and risks. Her face is turning colours as everything narrows down to the Alpha here. Her nose twitches, making the eyeliner whiskers along her cheeks perform a facsimile of animation. That growl again, and Sapphy's spine ripples. She groans at the tightness in her neck and the way you make her hips buck in mid-air. One of her ears folds forward, the other staying erect, cables and wires reporting the wrong triggers, confused between stealth and speed, making her artificial bunny-ears scissor.     A throaty groan and a pouty whimper as she pushes off from the wall a little only for her bottom to ba-bounce against the gritty brick wall. She pants, in distress, conflicted and the twin flares of excitement and anger take turns tussling. "Y...You..." she croaks. " It's not fair! I can do all that! I can do it! I'm not scared! I want it!" she tries to curse in quebecois, spittle flecking her lips as she writhes. Teen tantrum time. Oh no, she can smell you so well this close. Flashes of movment, needs, urges, bad self control. "Aaaaaaaaaaa...." she wails and huffs and puffs and reaches for you with grabby hands.
Cecily Winters	Her eyes narrow as her grip tightens -just- a little more. She can feel that pulse quickening, the blood vessels in the bunny's already adrenaline-pumped body working even more overtime than usual to bypass the constricting hold on such a vital series of pathways. "Can you do those things?" she asks, voice cold. ".../will/ you do those things?" she asks the real question, the serious question. It's not just a matter of capability but also culpability. "Because if you won't, then I can easily ensure your second chance is revoked."     She punctuates that last word as her nails dig in just slightly, letting their sharpness be felt in that tender flesh. As those hands grab at her, she stands firm and then... she lets go. She lets those hands scrabble where they will, she allows gravity to take its course and leave the girl to hit the concrete or land on her own feet. Will the manic bunny catch herself, or will she tumble into a heap. "Prove it. Put it all back. Everything you just took. Put it back, and I'll write an apology note on your behalf."     It is, after all, her blood on the broken glass. She can just as easily pass it off as an entirely different incident.
Veronique Lalonde	The lack of self control in the young woman is never so evident as when contrasted to someone so cool and collected as Cecily. The red-head scrabbles, saliva glistening on her bottom lip, like she's got a case of rabies. Her eyes widen as she feels the nails, and her own hands swipe ineffectually, deft and quick, but uncoordinated.     As Sapphire drops, she lands awkwardly, but on her feet. Super-quick movements help avoid her butt hitting concrete, but she nearly sprained something there. The control of her abilities hampered by her emotions. Instincts being a double-edged sword after S.T.A.R. labs' treatments, facial muscles twitchin. She blinks rapidly and lowers her chin, so she peers up just beneath the overhang of her red bangs. Disciplined troublemaker with her back against the wall. The threats and possibilities unmentioned but delivered, have Veronique flaring her nostrils as she stands up straighter before Cecily. For what it's worth, Sapphy tries to echo that more confident posture across from her. Her fingers blur, shoulders shimmer, thighs flex hard, showing off crazy muscles. Her voice is quiet as she tries to get out words and stay still. "You're not my..." She shows her teeth and raises a wrist to angrily swipe at her eyes, suddenly itchy. "What-ever." she wrinkles her nose. "I'll put it back. It's all stupid junk anyways." She wraps her arms around herself in a self-hug. "If you show me how something else is betterer, then you gotta give me a chance. If it's like you say, better use of...talents. You can't throw me to the cops yet, right? Give me another chance then."
Cecily Winters	Cecily takes a step back, giving the girl a little more space, perhaps to establish a layer of trust. She's still armed, anyway, and all of her focus is on Sapphire. Nowhere else. "I can, and will, give you another chance," she states with a slow nod. Her arms fold beneath her bust, the kitsune woman not at all affected by the other girl's own attempt at establishing a more dominant posture. "Put everything back, I'll write a note, and then we'll talk." She then sighs, shaking her head, "I can't tell you if or when the cops are coming, the old man's alarm has been on the fritz since a brick went through the window last month." Of course, around here, so near to Bushwick that folks still cause problems with 'mutant sympathizers' and such.     "At any rate, move it," she nods to the bag and the window. "It just so happens I know another girl who's quick on her feet, too. And having a reliable partner or two that I can keep an eye on while you do what you do best..." she nods to the window again, "...means lighter work. In return, you'll be plenty rewarded. Build up that trust in good behavior and you'll be in a much better place. Sound fair? Play smash and grab with a purpose and a sponsorship?"
Veronique Lalonde	"You ruined my disguise." Sapphire seethes, and she takes a shakey breath. She's easy to read, and there are clear signs she might just try and put Cecily to the test. Her hands come up to her neck, touching at herself in a little self checking to see if she's bleeding. She'd be able to smell it if she was, but sometimes physical touches are required. Her blood feels like it hurts. Like her veins are too slim for all the fury and passion that's churning through her. Beneath her headphones, her ears must be as beet red as her face.     Sapphire reaches up to adjust her earphones, aligning her scissored ears into a more symmetrical slant backwards, like lowered rabbit ears. The red-head is shorter, and when she walks slowly towards Cecily, it's to try and measure up. "You know another girl. You don't know ~me~." She raises her chin. "I want a big reward." Sapphire intends to stand close, chest to chest, if allowed to. So close that her hot puffs of breath could be felt and the flavour of bubblegum she habitually destroys with her jaws become apparent. "You know another girl." she repeats, and she narrows her eyes, and her expression is flavoured by something else, that's perhaps a little...angry? Maybe she's too proud to admit anyone else is capable of doing what she does. "You want me to show you how fast this bunny can be? I bet I'm the fastest 'n best girl you've ~ever~ seen. You want me to put it back real fast and quick?" She curls her tongue behind her front teeth. "Foxy?"
Cecily Winters	So much sass. Cecily reacts impassively to the entire situation. She lets Veronique get up close and personal as much as she wants. She can feel those exhales of breath, her glasses fogging up slightly with the cold near-winter air. Then she just sighs as her ears are filled with so much verbal posturing and perhaps, to her, hints of jealousy. It makes the corners of her mouth upturn slightly, her own amusement showing some. And then she pushes the envelope, giving a small shrug. "I know a lot of girls," she states, cold and simple. "And I usually do my brat taming at the barrel of a gun."     The fox lifts her hand and presses it to the middle of Sapphire's chest, giving enough force to just. Nudge her back a couple of inches. "So how about you show me how much you want to be my /good girl/ and do what I asked you to do. Or the next thing you'll see is the back of a squad car when you've woken up again." The thinly-veiled menace in her voice is punctuated by a low growl tinging every word of that threat.
Veronique Lalonde	Sapphire blanches, and the corners of her mouth tug downwards as she see's Cecily's quirk upwards. Her light frame is pushed back, making more personal space between them, and the girl's eyebrows try and knit together. But what really puts fuel in her tank is the ~growl~. Or perhaps it's the spark of ignition that allows the fuel to be drawn upon. A different type of trigger to help her access her abilities. She's been dared, and there's a hint of dread if she doesn't succeed in impressing the Kitsune, or perhaps...shows she's actually capable. There's a lot to process, and it doesn't make things easier with being potentially called a ~good girl~. That nearly short-circuits the whole build-up of the little dynamo she imagines needs spinning up to do what she needs to do.     Quick-fast, her eyes flick downwards and around Cecily's person to firearms and weapons. But the look in her eyes when she raises them back up to Cecily's glasses, they don't need to necessarily be drawn. Sapphy twitches, ears burning, spine hot, legs flexing. "Oui."     There's a flash of heat, a blur of motion. The sliced bag is grabbed, and the grunt of effort from Sapphire is audible as a strangely distorted sound, like talking into a oscillating fan. She pauses by teh broken window for a brief second, careful, bent over to show the shape of her youthful form, and then gone lickity-split fast, leaving an afterimage like a dream. A wash of heat like opening an oven door. Her passage isn't silent as she's putting things back to rights. She's not trained in stealth, only an amateur. But she is ~fast~.     When she's back, it's a little dive through the broken window and she's crouching practically on all fours, and peering up at you, sweating heavily and looking a bit pinched in the face. Like she's dying of thirst or hadn't eaten in weeks. She whines and tosses the empty ruined bag to your feet like the hide of an animal she cooked or caught.
Cecily Winters	It's as if Cecily knows how to deal with people like Sapphire. The certain mindset. A /dare/. Perfect. So she nods at the 'Oui' and watches as the girl dashes off to clean up her own mess. The entire time, the kitsune is counting down the seconds, glancing at her phone's stopwatch and back at the blur that's dashing around the darkened shop. And then, Veronique is back. On the ground. Staring up at her. The fox nudges the empty bag with the tip of her shoe and tsks. "...we'll have to get you a new bag, too..." she muses aloud, then stows her phone. "Sixty six seconds. Give or take a few heartbeats," she says, tone neutral as if she's simply stating her evaluation.     "You can do better, but you still did the task. Come on," she turns away and starts to cross the street, her tails waving behind her, enticing, almost welcoming with the plush, silky softness that's larger than she is overall. There's a click and a grey sedan parked across the street's lights flicker and the doors unlock. "Come with me. You look like you need a meal, and a drink. Seems like you went full aggressive heat bleed, too. That can't be good for you."     Halfway across the street, she pauses, and looks back over her shoulder, "Tell me what you need and I'm sure I can find some way to help you. And not just with a meal and a new courier bag."
Veronique Lalonde	Sapphire looks close to another tantrum when it turns out she was actually timed. Like Cecily wasn't even half as impressed as she assumed. But she's too tired, depleted and sweaty after her attempts at her uno-reverso of her stealing. Putting stuff back was definitely more difficult than snatching, and her outfit bears sweat marks on her sterum and armpits. The rest might have darn well evaporated while moving too fast.     Swallowing hard enough to almost make an audible click in her throat, she is reluctant to follow immediately like a lap dog. But there's that voice and confidence again, and those tails tugging her attention with their movements. "You'd need a time machine...louve." she mumbles the french word quietly and an addendum, "Je suis what could be afforded." With effort, she rises and tries to saunter after Cecily and the car. "I cannot afford what my stomach needs. I've put back everything that would pay for some of it. Your kind old man was my meal. I will starve now that I have gone so fastquick. The Labs make it so. I need good stuff inside me." She clutches at her stomach and rubs at it while pulling an absolute puppy-dog eyes look.
Cecily Winters	The fox remains in the middle of the street, pausing there, offering her hand back to Sapphire. "I /can/ afford what your stomach needs. Food. Water. Rest. You aren't going to starve. Do you think I'm that cruel?" Cecily asks, those purple eyes of hers still glowing. She /can/ be that cruel, yes. But not this time. "Then we'll see about long term solutions. If you prove yourself valuable. You won't spend another night in a cell, and you're not going to go hungry."     Cecily just sighs, shaking her head, "...while I can't apologize for the actions of the others who gave you that second chance, I can still express my sympathy that they made you like this and then cut you loose without any... placement. Or backup."
Veronique Lalonde	Sapphire raises a hand to flicks it through her hair. The kind of gesture learned from her days in Montreal, to try and affect a vibe of nonchalant 'tude. Her eyes glance towards your face to gauge your expression, checking in now and then to see how she's doing. "I prove whatever needs proving." she tsks and offers forth her own hand when Cecily offers hers. She really is that full of herself, or at least desperate to make others think a certain way about her. She stretches her calf muscles and tilts her head to the side, licking at her lips which feel on the verge of cracking and needing some balm. "Yes, cut loose and on my own. Again." Sapphy shakes her head and swallows.     Her hand gives a furtive squeeze, testing your physicality. Maybe it's just a reality check. Those eyes are hard to avoid constant peeking at. "I am used to being discarded. I am not used to saviours. When I am out and about like this...I am Sapphire, because I am valuable."
Cecily Winters	"Then this would be the second time I've saved you, wouldn't it?" Cecily asks, tilting her head to the side slowly. Then she exhales a quiet sigh, squeezing Veronique's hand. Firmly. She's quite strong. "I intend to do a better job this time around," she then says, her tone perhaps a little on the self-deprecating side of things. "Come on. I'm taking you home. Let's get your life started over. So you don't end up dead in a gutter or featured in the next Ryker's Island prison break video..." she grunts and carefully leads Sapphire over towards her car.     When they get there, she opens the passenger door but lets the girl get in under her own power. "A precious gem, hmm? Still a jewel in the rough, though. We'll get you polished and cleaned up, it'll just take some tumbling." As she turns away to step around the car and take the driver's seat, she keeps Sapphire in sight. "Just call me Cecily. Or. Ms. Winters."