(no subject)

[amelia-z.livejournal.com]

Amelia's got an aluminum baseball bat and she's quite happy with it right now. After the mess with the box she'd tried to just forget about it all and tag it away as another one of the things she's apparently supposed to Shut the Fuck Up About.

Half a bottle of tequila doesn't make for quietly getting over things, though.

The media room is wrecked. Actually, most of the house is. She just started in the media room because there was more to smash there. She slumps against the wall when she gets to the stairs but manages herself up them and continues on upstairs. By the third room in, she finally gets a good look at herself in the mirror. She looks like crap. She chuckles, tossing the bat into a corner and abandoning it for a better idea.

Locating her phone is a fun task amidst the wreck, but eventually she finds it buried between broken drywall and bookcase. The bottle of tequila gets slung in a cargo pocket as she dials up Tara's number.

There's obviously a completely logical answer here somewhere. Obviously.

Like riding a bike...

[femme-du-chat.livejournal.com]

Crouched outside the window of Hugo Strange's office, Catwoman smiles to herself. It has been far too long. The excitment of it, the rush of it - God, she loves this stuff. Unforunately, other than the bit of a security system present on the windows, breaking in here hasn't really been too much of a challenge.

There are so few good security systems in town. It makes it hard to find a good challenge. Of course, thinking of that makes her want to break into Wayne Tower. Or The Batcave. Or... Hrm. Maybe the Clocktower. /That/ would be a challenge. She /does/ want to see Mary again. It is worth thinking about. It would be a hell of a challenge. Take all night, probably. The very thought of it makes her shiver just a little bit.

Aftera few more moments making sure that all of her i's are dotted and all of her t's are crossed, she shimmies in through the now opened window. Once she's in, she looks around for a few moments before nodding to herself. Then she makes her way across the room and opens up the door for her compatriot in crime. Or vigilanteism. Whatever you want to call it.

Assuming he'll be in any moment, she starts to look around for evidence, hoping it isn't all on the computer. Because taking the computer would definately be obvious.