Selina Kyle ⇆ Catwoman (felinefatale_) wrote in newalliance, @ 2012-05-13 16:23:00 |
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The early hours of the morning were always the ones that provided the most clarity for Selina. The beginning of dawn, the sun slowly beginning to creep over the high rises and rooftops of central Gotham. From her bedroom window in the east end, the place almost looked ethereal. A completely different world where the wealth of the city protected its inhabitants from recognising the filth that permeated the air and the streets around them. Like a little bubble, a bubble she had recently moved out of. Selina sat on the end of her bed, her window wide open; the cool breeze floating in and making her skin prickle. The cat suit hanging at her waist, the boots unceremoniously laying at her feet, she reached up with a single hand rubbing the strap on the tight black sports bra that sat against her skin.
The night hadn't been kind. Her body ached, battered and bruised, her lip split where one of the fire bugs had got a lucky shot. But she'd caught them finally, only after weeks of chasing them around the east end. Old store fronts, waste land, warehouses. They'd gotten to everything. It hadn't taken Selina long to deduce that they were part of some bigger operation. A mob insurance claim maybe, a move to get more land. An opportunity to build more Brothels, more drug safe houses. At least she'd gotten to them though, broken a few noses, left a few knocked out and zip locked to lamp posts.
The bruises were worth it, even if the heist business had afforded her less, she had to admit – this rush was worth it. She had to replace one addiction with another after all....
Slowly Selina stood, cracking her neck from side to side, looking at her alarm clock. Four am. The thirteenth of may. Her mouth twitched a little as she looked from the clock instinctively to the picture that sat on her dressing table. Hesitating for a moment, she padded across the wood floor of her room on bare feet, reaching out to pick it up and study it for a moment, her fingers lingering of over the faces of a woman and two young girls. She's picked it up hundreds of times before, cold and distant memories sweeping through her mind. Mother's day always made things more difficult.
Selina didn't think of herself as sentimental. She'd never had time to be, not after the age of ten when things had started to change. Mother's day was just another day for her. No remembering, no memories that really meant anything to her. Just a couple of old photos. Christ, she couldn't remember her mother's face properly, she didn't even know where he she was buried. The courts had taken care of that, no one had ever bothered to tell her – and any curiosity she'd ever had regarding finding the grave had been blown away with the rest of the trash that littered the Gotham streets. She glanced at the picture again, her green eyes dulled by exhaustion, glossing over slightly, the flicker of sadness on her proud features.
Quickly Selina shook herself, reaching down and opening a drawer, tossing the photo to the back with a loud clatter and slamming it shut, the glass in her vanity shaking. Her hands found her face soon after, wiping the moistness from her eyes, she took a deep breath. Outside the sound of another siren screeched through her window. Selina licked her lip gingerly, the sting of her cut flesh and the metallic taste of her own blood snapping her out of the stupor she was beginning to sink into.Turning away suddenly, she headed into the bathroom, pushing the door open with a single bloodied hand.
The thirteenth of may was just another day. Hopefully she would sleep through most of it.