Tatiana Schivoski is the definition of mystery. She wears curiousity, kindness, and a red-lipped smile like Kevlar. She's in Gotham, hoping to do penance for her past by starting over. But the past does not take kindly to being ignored. Tatiana will...
Tatiana had been in Gotham for three days with no work. It wasn't that she didn't like work, it was just that nobody wanted to hire a girl with less than a high school diploma. The closest she had gotten was a spot at Cinnamon's Electronics. She had sent in her application, and now had to wait three to five business days for them to get back to her. Now, with nothing else to do, she was finally unpacking her boxes.
The last couple days she had spent wandering around Gotham and getting to know the feel of it. She'd seen the 'De vaders van Gotham', an old painting of a bunch of elderly men, which had almost been stolen the day she'd moved. She'd also gone to the roof of the apartment, hoping to catch a glimpse of the real Gotham. The Gotham that it's people were always talking about. The Gotham she was going to join. The Gotham of the Batman and his colleagues.
Tatiana looked through the small kitchen box and grabbed the knife block. Setting it on the counter, she grabbed a knife and cut the tape on the rest of the boxes. Four in all. She grabbed the Ziploc bag of magnets and stuck them on the small, empty fridge. Maybe she should go grocery shopping. She placed the yellow toaster on the counter and put silverware in the drawer. The lemon-themed dishrags were hung, the yellow curtains put up. She ran the dishwasher to clean it and put the bleach under the sink.
She broke down the box and put it by the front door. Then moved to the next one, ripping off the paper taped to it.
"For you, Empress. I hope this helps you find what you're looking for. -Apollo"
Tatiana smiled and stuck the note to the fridge. She opened the box and saw white fabric. "Oh, no! You did not!" she exclaimed to herself. She glanced around her empty apartment. She took the the outfit out and shook it. A sleeveless top with a high collar and an invisible zipper. Stiff pants and black combat boots. A hooded white cloak. A heavy utility belt and a sheath. Last but not least, a metal mask to protect her mouth and nose, and a connected domino one to protect her eyes. She fiddled with the mask, turning it over in her hands. She set the outfit down on the round kitchen table and unsheathed the weapon. Her weapon. The scimitar glowed in the dim light of noon that came through the yellow curtains. The artistry was beautiful. Vines and flowers decorated the flat of the blade. She raised the blade to her face and stepped closer to examine it. Names followed the vines, in tiny letters. Timofei, Lucia, Snowy, Apollo, Reva. Many, many names.
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