Re: Dream: Selina & Tony
"Do you want them?" It was existential, that question, but the little kitten wasn't as little as she looked, and it was, she thought, a very good good question. "Nine lives, I mean. Isn't one more than enough?" Oh, she'd had a death wish since she was tiny, and it warred with the desire to have everything she wanted, to be the one controlling the purse strings of her fate. It was a conflict that lived in those mossy green eyes, and she regarded the leaking man who was dead and gone again.
A scoff. Such a scoff. "Silly little tin man. The slink? Is a catch. Me? I'm ordinary underneath the black. And ordinary? Isn't a priority." And her mouth turned down, and it looked wrong, that expression on those young lips. "It's nice when it works." An echo, and she looked at him with a feline tilt of head. "Has it worked for you?"
He scratched at the wet material, and she reached out with all the familiarity of old bones; she smacked his hand away. "Don't do that." But he was saying confusing things about the suit, and she didn't understand. "So, don't do what everyone expects. Maybe it's time to live for us, and not for them." Gunfire, and she turned her head to look toward what she suspected was the mouth of the cave.
She scoffed. Again. And she stood, the little Gotham whore with a smile that blossomed like blood from a wound. "So? We die. Better to die getting out, than to languish staying in."
She reached out a hand for him, like some dark angel with jangling necklaces and kohl-lined eyes. Her fingernails were painted red, crack and chipped, and she wasn't afraid of the sounds. The sounds? Were home.