Selina Kyle has been stuck on the Enterprise for too long, each passing hour making her feel less and less comfortable. Skittish, even.
Not exactly the type to stay in one place for very long, for obvious reasons (the main one being her profession), getting stuck in an oversized tin-can in the middle of space is almost downright scary. Of course, no one would ever guess that from the way she carries herself - an effortless calm, coolness, as though this is exactly how she'd been planning to spend her week - but it's just another mask, another secret to add to the ever-growing list of them.
She looks the part of a stranded tourist when she passes through Ten Forward's doors. There is no trace of Catwoman, not even in the way she moves, each step controlled to look as though she's lost and scared and feeling it all. Her hair hangs loose around her shoulders, her blouse and jeans are relatively standard - mindfully curated to emit a sense of fashion flare, but nothing to the usual standards of Miss Kyle - and she wears a string of pearls around her neck. Yes, those pearls.
There's a moment when she scans her surroundings for an empty seat, notices one particular newcomer, and raises her eyebrows. And if her heart-rate suddenly increases, well, no one will ever know from the way she immediately schools her expression back into one of mild interest.
"You've got to be kidding me," is said under her breath.
He'll see her eventually. The ship isn't that large and anonymity is impossible with so few people to disappear into. So she takes a breath and approaches.
no subject
Not exactly the type to stay in one place for very long, for obvious reasons (the main one being her profession), getting stuck in an oversized tin-can in the middle of space is almost downright scary. Of course, no one would ever guess that from the way she carries herself - an effortless calm, coolness, as though this is exactly how she'd been planning to spend her week - but it's just another mask, another secret to add to the ever-growing list of them.
She looks the part of a stranded tourist when she passes through Ten Forward's doors. There is no trace of Catwoman, not even in the way she moves, each step controlled to look as though she's lost and scared and feeling it all. Her hair hangs loose around her shoulders, her blouse and jeans are relatively standard - mindfully curated to emit a sense of fashion flare, but nothing to the usual standards of Miss Kyle - and she wears a string of pearls around her neck. Yes, those pearls.
There's a moment when she scans her surroundings for an empty seat, notices one particular newcomer, and raises her eyebrows. And if her heart-rate suddenly increases, well, no one will ever know from the way she immediately schools her expression back into one of mild interest.
"You've got to be kidding me," is said under her breath.
He'll see her eventually. The ship isn't that large and anonymity is impossible with so few people to disappear into. So she takes a breath and approaches.
"Well, well, well."
She smiles.
"Look what the cat dragged in."