[There's a rather frowny-looking redhead staring at the portrait of herself in the foyer. It...is her, for sure, but more like if she'd sat for it in the mid 40's, with a big smile and perfectly coiffed hair and everything. Compared to the 30-something in rumpled pajamas, you could almost say that this woman and her portrait are from two totally different worlds.]
Being kidnapped is awful enough, but my senior high school photo? Really? Ugh...
[Can she turn the portrait around, is that possible? She's going to try, completely ignoring the bio underneath.]
I hated that stupid dress, it was so itchy but nooo, you have to wear it for the brand, Patsy...
2 - How do you shop without cash while also being held captive, asking for a cat
[So what's a Boudoir Shop anyway? Patsy wants to know, seeing as she's stuck here for the immediate future.]
Isn't a boudoir a fancy word for a girl's bedroom or whatever...?
[Some of the stuff seems like it'd be fancy, like racks of cigars and shelves of selectively placed alcohols of different shades, but other things are kitschy as heck, like boxed sets to "Build Your Own Boudoir" in miniature, felt animal puppets, and some silly hats. These are what Patsy lingers on the longest, a sly grin curling up onto her face.]
Aw, why not, who'd judge me?
[So now, perched atop that bright red hair, is a leopard-print hat with cat ears on it. Patsy chuckles to herself as she continues perusing the shop, but, uh, gosh. This is just silly.]
3 - Like a high school prom but BETTER
WOOOOOOO, LET'S GET IT STARTED!
[Patsy is, uh. Well, she's dressed and masked befitting the nature of the event, but she's also had about three of those fancy fizzy drinks and has taken to heart the idea that cutting loose and having fun can and will distract you from all concerns, worries, and potential panic attacks over your possible death.
Also, you? Yes you, right there, you look like you're in need of a dance partner. Patsy sweeps in with a surprising modicum of grace and takes your hand as a song starts up.]
Hey, come on, don't be such a stick in the mud! [She leans close, a glint of mischief in those eyes.] Heh, maybe they'll play this song twenty-one times like that one joke, wouldn't that be hysterical?
[Are you going to humor her, or try to get Patsy to sit down and sober up a little bit?]
4 - Suddenly all that life experience fighting crime proves useful
Poor Marvin...
[He hadn't been all that bad a fellow, in Patsy's opinion. Maybe a little old-fashioned, for sure, but when you grow up in Centerville, your whole tiny world is old-fashioned compared to what lies beyond. Still, a crime is a crime, and she hadn't earned the name Hellcat by doing nothing.
(Well. Technically, she put on a suit and went hey, that'll be my cook super hero name, but eh, details.)
Patsy's obtained some yellow rubber gloves from the kitchen area, meant for doing dishes, so she can examine the body without leaving prints or touching something that one may not want to touch. Like, the splattered and crushed pulp of a head bludgeoned by a falling safe, for instance.]
How did someone even rig a safe to fall in here...? Must've been pretty strong to even move it into the room to begin with...
Patsy Walker | Patsy Walker aka Hellcat (2016) | Gotta love redundancy!!!
Oh, hell no.
[There's a rather frowny-looking redhead staring at the portrait of herself in the foyer. It...is her, for sure, but more like if she'd sat for it in the mid 40's, with a big smile and perfectly coiffed hair and everything. Compared to the 30-something in rumpled pajamas, you could almost say that this woman and her portrait are from two totally different worlds.]
Being kidnapped is awful enough, but my senior high school photo? Really? Ugh...
[Can she turn the portrait around, is that possible? She's going to try, completely ignoring the bio underneath.]
I hated that stupid dress, it was so itchy but nooo, you have to wear it for the brand, Patsy...
2 - How do you shop without cash while also being held captive, asking for a cat
[So what's a Boudoir Shop anyway? Patsy wants to know, seeing as she's stuck here for the immediate future.]
Isn't a boudoir a fancy word for a girl's bedroom or whatever...?
[Some of the stuff seems like it'd be fancy, like racks of cigars and shelves of selectively placed alcohols of different shades, but other things are kitschy as heck, like boxed sets to "Build Your Own Boudoir" in miniature, felt animal puppets, and some silly hats. These are what Patsy lingers on the longest, a sly grin curling up onto her face.]
Aw, why not, who'd judge me?
[So now, perched atop that bright red hair, is a leopard-print hat with cat ears on it. Patsy chuckles to herself as she continues perusing the shop, but, uh, gosh. This is just silly.]
3 - Like a high school prom but BETTER
WOOOOOOO, LET'S GET IT STARTED!
[Patsy is, uh. Well, she's dressed and masked befitting the nature of the event, but she's also had about three of those fancy fizzy drinks and has taken to heart the idea that cutting loose and having fun can and will distract you from all concerns, worries, and potential panic attacks over your possible death.
Also, you? Yes you, right there, you look like you're in need of a dance partner. Patsy sweeps in with a surprising modicum of grace and takes your hand as a song starts up.]
Hey, come on, don't be such a stick in the mud! [She leans close, a glint of mischief in those eyes.] Heh, maybe they'll play this song twenty-one times like that one joke, wouldn't that be hysterical?
[Are you going to humor her, or try to get Patsy to sit down and sober up a little bit?]
4 - Suddenly all that life experience fighting crime proves useful
Poor Marvin...
[He hadn't been all that bad a fellow, in Patsy's opinion. Maybe a little old-fashioned, for sure, but when you grow up in Centerville, your whole tiny world is old-fashioned compared to what lies beyond. Still, a crime is a crime, and she hadn't earned the name Hellcat by doing nothing.
(Well. Technically, she put on a suit and went hey, that'll be my cook super hero name, but eh, details.)
Patsy's obtained some yellow rubber gloves from the kitchen area, meant for doing dishes, so she can examine the body without leaving prints or touching something that one may not want to touch. Like, the splattered and crushed pulp of a head bludgeoned by a falling safe, for instance.]
How did someone even rig a safe to fall in here...? Must've been pretty strong to even move it into the room to begin with...