the trouble with girls is it's never enough | Felicia & Amora
The alliance the Enchantress had embarked upon with the nefarious Madam Hydra admittedly had its perks, among those was access to such an abundance of files that the blonde did not care to ask how the extensive collection was obtained. It had been not hours ago that the willowy form had commandeered the single chair in the archives as emerald orbs poured over the information held within the flimsy paper folder that was opened on her lap, though ultimately, it was not the black print that held her attention. It was a picture; more accurately, a picture of a particular painting (one who's existence she had forgotten about until she had laid eyes on the photo that was now clutched between long fingers).
The file itself detailed an art theft, something trivial and insignificant that allowed the sorceress to have no qualms in letting the useless information leave her mind and settle among the dust in the room. It was piece located to the left of the one which had been stolen (presumably by HYDRA judging by the file) which had captured the Asgardian's interest as it was, quite simply, a portrait of her which had been done in the time period that the human's referred to as the Renaissance - she couldn't remember if they had given it the same name back then. It was strange, to feel compelled to take something that had been bestowed upon her as a gift from her past suitor even though she had placed it in storage not long after, to want what was rightfully hers returned to her. Amora was unable to quell the smirk that lifted the edge of her lipstick lined mouth;
For when was she a woman who suppressed her urges?
It was with that notion swimming leisurely around the forefront of her mind that the Asgardian found herself donning her usual attire of the tight garments (though she would say figure hugging) that some would have called her uniform as she made her way across the rooftops of the city as though a panther, moving as though she were one with the night that was gradually falling across the town. The fair haired female did not stop until she came across another figure, one that seemed familiar, not being bound by the limitations of time, it did not irritate her to wait a few more moments to continue with her endeavour. Curls cascaded across her shoulder as her head cocked slightly to the side in an attempt to recall the name associated with the halo of platinum blonde hair.
"'Licia? What has you out at this hour?" The curiosity that laced the question was mild, dancing throughout the wisps of the night air until it reached the other, Amora content to wait for an answer. A small voice weaved its way to the forefront of her mind, reminding her that the woman in question had a penchant for expensive objects and was currently trying to play the good guy as the goddess had mere months ago... It seemed there was a chance that the other woman could help her in her endeavour if her memory was correct.
Wasn't that what the good did? They helped.