Quiet as a mouse, Felicia slipped down from her perch into the bowels of the art museum. An avant-garde art exhibit featuring abstract cats had just set up display in the MoMA and she simply had to have it. Well… that wasn't the only reason. She knew her favorite hero was out on patrol and you would quickly come to stop her. And while she hated getting caught, seeing your masked face more than made up for it. Maybe it was pathetic of her, but she didn’t really care, it made her feel giddy and normal to have a crush (albeit on her nemesis). She made her way deeper into the museum, to the showroom where the exhibit that so transfixed her was stationed. The tripwire wasn’t well hidden, she could see it clear as day, the silver string laced across the floor that signaled for you. She took great strides forward, intentionally setting off the alarms, and grabbed the smallest of the paintings, something easy to tote. She lingers for a moment, pouting when you don’t show face quick enough. She resigns herself to leaving with the painting, making a beeline for the door when a familiar gloved hand captures hers. “Took you long enough,” she purred.