Owner	Pose
Mary Turner	Gotham. Midnight. This is when the city is at it's most darkest, both figuratively and literally. Tonight's target is Lyle Marston, gentleman thief, one who happened to rob the wrong person and gather the attention of the Court of Owls. The Court knows his alter ego, La Raton. The Court knows /everything/ that goes on in Gotham, and tonight they want to give him a special message. So tonight, they've sent Strix out to deliver this message. She's currently perched atop the roof across the alley from where La Raton is doing a book signing, waiting for a chance to strike when he is, inevitably alone.
Lyle Marston	Lyle usually hated being in Gotham. This dammed city was even more corrupt than NYC could ever dream to be. While there were more possible targets among Gotham's corrupt for his dashing Alter-ego to rob it often came with more risks. He knew that Gotham's corrupt and their minions hated being slighted and would do anything to avenge themselves, even murder. However, Lyle had found himself ignoring this rule as of late. His agent had arranged a series of book signings across the country, and he had chosen Gotham as the second stop. Lyle, of course, took advantage of his temporary situation in Gotham by robbing one Freddie Howslwell, the young heir to the Howlswell Cosmetics Company, and a corrupt son of a bitch guilty of various environmental slights. La Raton had managed to steal over 10,000 dollars in cash from the young heir seemingly undetected, unaware of the dark forces now aware of his existence. He was currently leaving the book store he was using as the book signing site and began to make his way across the street to his hotel. He was wearing a brown dress jacket, a blue dress shirt, a black tie, slacks, and a pair of brown loafers.
Mary Turner	Strix watches impassively as La Raton makes his way to his hotel room. Attacking him on the street would be draw too much unwanted attention, even at this time of night. It's too open, too many variables that could cause problems later on. She moves silently and hops from one rooftop to the next until she's on top of the hotel where Lyle is staying at. She makes short work of the locked door that leads into the hotel itself and silently pads down the corridors until she's in front of her target's room. The lock on the door here poses little challenge to her, and she lets herself in, and silently closes the door. Now all she has to do is wait in the dark for her target to come to her.
Lyle Marston	Lyle sighed as he walked out of the elevator and made his way to his hotel room. His day had started at 6 am and lasted all the way to 10 pm. He was in no condition to go out as La Raton tonight. Perhaps it was this fatigue that caused him to not notice that his lock had been picked. As he unlocked his door for seemingly the second time in his stay in Gotham, he let out another exhausted sigh as he walked in, unaware of the danger waiting for him.
Mary Turner	Strix bides her time until Lyle is at his most susceptible and right before he turns on the lights. She's lightning quick and lashes out with a sword. At any other time this would be fatal, but her mission is not to kill tonight, so she pulls her punch so the attack would only draw a bit of blood.
Lyle Marston	Lyle lets out a gasp of horror when the woman in the owl mask springs out in the darkness. He lets out a swear in French as he is cut across the face, drawing blood. He then suddenly makes a rather athletic leap towards the nightstand and opens the drawer rather quickly. Suddenly, he pulls out two Colt pistols and, after lightly wearing in French, begins to open fire at the assassin, no-kill rule be dammned!
Mary Turner	Strix is able to dodge a few of the bullets, but with such a hail it's only natural that a few strike true. However, the wounds hardly seem to phase her at all. Black blood thick as tar seeps out of the wounds as Strix strikes again. As before her attacks aren't meant to kill or maim. Only to wound and frighten. This time her target is one of he gun hands.
Lyle Marston	Lyle may be quick, but he isn't as quick as a well-trained assassin. The blade surprisingly grazes both of his gun hands at once. Lyle cries out in pain and drops the guns. But, he then glares at you and attempts to throw a punch at the assassins' face.
Mary Turner	Strix easily parries the punch with the flat of a blade, and decides to end this. With a spin she swings the sword aiming for Lyle's neck, but stops just short of even touching the edge to flesh. There she stops, with the blade to the neck, a warning for him not to move further.
Lyle Marston	Lyle swears as the punch is parried, but immediately grunts in shock and grits his teeth when the blade is about to approach his neck. He expected to be decapitated right then and there, but, nothing happened. Lyle then looked up at the mysterious woman and said in a voice with a heavy Scotthish accent, "Well, if you aren't gonna kill me, then what da hell do ye want?!"
Mary Turner	Strix sheathes the other sword so she can reach into a pouch to pull out a letter. She, then, flicks it to Lyle for him to open. The envelope is sealed with an ornate owl crest. Once opened the letter is penned with flourishing handwriting on expensive paper.     "To Our Friend, Lyle Marston     "We hope to find you well tonight, and that your book signing hasn't been too difficult on your constitution. You have been involved in a recent acquisition that has directly interfered with our operation and seek recompense.     "There is an item of significant interest in Museum of Modern Art that we wish for you to liberate. A certain portrait by Winslow Willoughby has caught our attention, The Man Who Laughs. We believe that you have the skills necessary to acquire this for us, and will consider your debt paid in full should you succeed. Otherwise we will have to extract our payment.                         "Best of luck." In place of the signature is the same owl stamp that was on the seal of the letter. Lyle is given enough time to read the letter fully before it bursts into flame to incinerate itself.