°✧ PLOTTED STARTERS
@arachnrd
She had been planning this for months. The moment the Met announced it’s newest exhibit, a tribute to Artemisia Gentileschi she knew she had to do it. The center of the exhibition was arguably Artemisia’s most famous work, on loan from the National Museum of Capodimonte. She’d been in Italy almost a year ago, pulling a job at the Galleria Borghese. She could have seen it there, the painting was housed only a couple hours away. It would have been nothing for her to take a trip south and see it, but it didn't feel right. She wasn't ready to see it yet.
Now here it was, practically in her own backyard at the Met. Almost begging her to come see it. And who was she to deny? When would another opportunity present itself to see the work dearest to her heart, alone. To have it all to herself for just a moment. It was like a magnet, an invisible force inside her acting on an instinct to see it, to be close. To be understood.
Felicia worked best when night bled into the early morning, black suit blending into the dark of the night as it reached those terrible early morning hours before the sun even rose. She knew the guards schedules, memorized them, figured out when the best time to slip in exhibit unnoticed would be. Long boring hours made for sloppy work and there was a decent time frame where the exhibit was completely unguarded. She could find her way in through the skylight at the end of the exhibit hall, do what she needed to do and be gone before anyone even had a suspicion that an unwelcome guest was present.
Making quick work of the skylight, an unfamiliar kind of nervousness washed over her. Normally a break in brought a feeling of adrenaline, a rush so good it made her feel alive. This time though a strange sort of anxiety she’d never had on a job before. She could do this, she had no doubt. She was Black Cat for God’s sake, the best cat burglar since her father, this was far from the most difficult job she’d done in her career, but still something seized her. A rolling sort of anxiety in apprehension that crashed over her and gave her pause.
In that moment of hesitation, Felica’s senses perked up despite her swell of anxiety. First it was the sound, one she was all too familiar with, the distinctive thwip of webbing hitting a surface, then the rush of a body through air. He landed easily, like flying through the air was as easy as breathing, and Felicia almost groaned at the intrusion. She didn’t know how he found her here, maybe a coincidence? If so she must be having the worst luck in all of Manhattan that night. Any of her previous anxiety or annoyance was quickly hidden behind a coy mask, one she was well versed in wearing.
“ Normally, I’d love to do our usual song and dance, Spider, but I’ve got plans for tonight and they’re ones I’d rather do alone. I don’t suppose you could find a little old lady to help to cross the street or maybe a carjacking you could amuse yourself with while I work? I’ll be in and out, won’t even know I’ve been there. I won’t even take anything. Cross my heart. ”
