730 days~ Batcat

The Birth of Catwoman

I do not own Gotham

The muddy clouds hung lazily above the melancholy city, casting phantom shadows onto the paved concrete streets, spitting droplets of rain at passers by. The minute capsules of water that were shot by the sky plummeted down onto the already sodden and grotesque streets, plastering the dull buildings in a casing of sombre jewels, each reflecting the haunting light of the ever present moon that danced in the sky.

In this city the rules were simple: kill or be killed. Cut and run. Never look back. For these uncharted streets that branched to every point on the compass like nerves were no place for those who didn't know how navigate them. Endless records of deaths and crimes littered the desks of every officer in the city, each leading to one dead end after the next, playing the civil servants like a cruel labyrinth.

But among the maze like buildings and cracks of this doomed city, there were those who knew how to survive. Those who were one in their own here. Those who could step back into the shadows and vanish into oblivion if they so wished. Those poor, damned souls who made a living off cruelty an invisibility.

Selina was one of those. She hadn't lived a long life, no, but she knew just how to dance with the devil. The learned many things from her numerous scuffles and jobs... and scars. And she had learned quickly. Scars were something to be proud of in Gotham; they showed that you were stronger then whatever tried to hurt you. But what was the point in bearing a scar if you learned nothing from it. And although Selina was mostly unmarked, she had craters in her sanity and consciousness. But these were something she bore proudly, for they had fed her enough knowledge to keep her alive. Selina was lucky, she was gifted with a natural survival instinct and flawless complexion, making her a threat to anyone who dared cross her. However in this city, she had quickly learned that looks did not win any battles. It was about the skills that you had, the cards that you were dealt, and how close you kept them to your chest. And she was smart that way. Her cards were so close to her that even she couldn't see them all. However, she had the wise trick that allowed her to play her opponent and rob them blind before they could even ask her name. And that's exactly how she played it: to her strengths. She kept everyone new at arms length and everyone old even further. She let nobody in; because if nobody knows your weaknesses then nobody can hurt you. Right?

They always told her that it only takes one day for somebody to loose their mind, no matter how tight their hold of it is. Gotham's merciless streets were renowned for harbouring one psycho after another. They poured from every crevice and overtook the city like rats, spreading pain and suffering like a disease. But Selina knew who to say away from, and who to make alliances with. Sure, she was a roughed up thief who made her bed in abandoned apartments and warehouses, but she was wild and good at her trade, so nobody every asked questions. She booked one job after another, stole, delivered, took the cash, then repeated this motto ritualistically. Nobody could fault her for being what she was: a survivor. Well, nobody but that suit wearing, limo owning, walking bank of a person named Bruce Wayne: Gotham's 'Golden boy'. She had laughed hysterically when she had seen that on the cover of the papers. Bruce was known as the perfect rich little socialite who had more money than sense, but Selina knew him for what her truly was. And she hated it. She hated how he got into her head, how he was able to grab her cards and study them without fault, and how he always weaselled his way back into her train of thought. God, she hated that boy. But no, she didn't. She liked him. Perhaps a little more than she should.

The thought of him and her together made her snort every time it crossed her mind. Imagine that! Street cat and billionaire! Ha! They would make the headlines. That's why she tried her hardest to stay out of his hair. She knew the image it would build if he was seen with her, so she tried to keep him further then the others, but he always ended up popping up back in her life one way or another.