The Catness

October 21, 2017:

Bringing her purloined cat statue back to her New York safe house, Selina Kyle finds out there's more to her stolen goods than she could have predicted.

New York City

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions:

Plot:

Mood Music: [*\# None.]


Fade In…


A couple hours went by, maybe more. Catwoman now has somewhat less than the $5,000 she got back to the safehouse with, for there are a few containers of Chinese food in the fridge, most of them half-eaten. It's also got a few non-alcoholic drinks in it, but very little else. The layout of the place itself is spartan: a minimally-decorated entry area combined with a main room, the kitchen off to the side, a bathroom off a single hallway, and a small bedroom with a simple bed.

In ways, the penthouse and the safe house aren't all that different.

A bit of time was spent examining the hard drive, but once Selina found it had no valuable information on it, it found a new home - in the trash outside. It happens. Not every item a thief makes off with will be worth it. There's still the money, still the statue.

Still the sense that she's not alone, that someone could be watching her. Odd.

After changing into a nightshirt and retreating to the bedroom for a catnap, she relaxed in bed with the statue in hand, looking up at it from a position on her back. "I'm going to have to find out more about you. I don't remember ever seeing a pretty kitty quite like you before." Beginning to yawn, she set the statue down on the nightstand by the bed, but it took about another half-hour before she could get comfortable enough to finally nod off. The costume rested on a coat hanger on the door.


Some time later a gloved hand touches the hanging arm of the resting costume. Fingers lift the material, thumb running along the surface with a soft 'hmm' of curiosity.
Shoed steps quietly fill the safe house room as a figure wanders within freely. Neither the door nor windows were touched, this new arrival simply .. is.
The refrigerator is opened to the sound of grunting disapproval. Whatever this individual was looking for he seems.. disappointed.
There is a weight shifting onto the edge of the bed, the very foot of it as someone seats himself a very short distance away from the woman.

The light switch flicks on by itself.

Seated sideways before Selina is a well-suited man. Looking for all the world like some sort of butler with longish hair and agelessly young features, his mismatched gold/blue eyes peering at the object in his hands.. In this case the infamous bullwhip.

"The last time I saw one of these was at a slave auction. What a curious tool for a thief.." His voice speaks out clearly, unconcerned about what reaction might follow.


Selina has nothing on someone who can just appear in a place. That? A neat trick. She might appreciate it later on.

For now? She only begins to shift in bed as the weight is felt down toward her feet, then her eyes blink open when she hears a voice. "What..?" As they sharpen and focus on the sharp-dressed man, relaxing there with her whip, talking about it, she sits bolt upright and blurts, "What the hell are you doing here? And with that? If you don't get out of here right now, so help me I'll.."

The cat statue is grabbed, being the nearest thing to her, cocked back as if to throw it before she realizes what she's about to do. Then, she brings it back down and holds it closer to her.

"Who," she begins, speaking very slowly and sharply, "Are. You."


His reaction to the startled woman brandishing the cat statue at him? He chuckles mirthfully, eyes closing as he smiles widely.
If only she knew how ironic that is.

He composes himself a moment later as his head swivels slowly to face her, offering her a lazy smile as his mismatched eyes fall upon her appraisingly. Whatever threat she's leveled upon him has no visible effect on his continence as he continues unconcerned.
"I am someone who is very impressed at how smoothly you stole that statue." His gloved hands work along the length of the bullwhip, inspecting it in slow movements as he adds, "Though I am very curious who put you up to stealing it. You know.." His eyes glint as his head tilts back just so, looking upon her down the length of his nose, "If you put it back where you found it I can put a good word for you on the owner. They pay rather well.."
His words and vision judging her at all times. Sincere in his curious tone.


Eyeing the man, Selina keeps hold on the statue as she exits the bed so she can stand up and put a few feet between herself and the stranger, glaring more than anything else.

His demeanor and general comfort in this situation is probably unsettling in one way or another, and she continues to stare while he talks about the theft, caressing the length of the whip along the way.

"Nobody put me up to anything. I didn't even know what was down there." A brow goes up at the offer, then she sniffs and shakes her head. "I've done the whole 'work for someone else thing' before. Hated it. I'm back to going solo again. And I asked it already: who are you?"


While there is no tension or threat in his posture, it is difficult to overlook the fact that he holds Catwoman's chief weapon with the casual curiosity one inspects a purse on sale.
He does not move as she rises, his eyes only following her with that same amusement. Well he does briefly glance down at her legs but who wouldn't really? Otherwise he makes a soft 'ah' as she rejects the offer, nodding with understanding as his attention returns to the weaved leather bindings in the whip's handle.
"What amazing luck for you then." Leaving the matter at that as he seems to consider her repeated question. He seems to think about it at some length as he then replies, "Malcolm. Grey Malcolm. At your service." Casually tossing the whip back to her through the air. Rearming her without a hint of concern of what that could mean to his situation.
He then slides one leg over the other, black dress pants pressed and cleaned as if he dressed himself minutes ago. His arms similarly folding as he states, "Well, I can tell you one thing. If the statue stays.. So do I." His playful smile returns, "I feel like I've seen you before. The ears on your suit.. You wouldn't happen to be that Gotham Burglar eh? Selina was it?"
Remembering her words on that rooftop, 'get it together Selina'.


Selina keeps the statue cradled in her left hand and arm, circling her way around the bed toward the door, her shoulder bag also hanging up with the suit. When he gives her the name, she files it away for safekeeping. The whip's handle is caught, then there's a crack as she snaps it with a flick of the wrist before another twist sends it coiling up for her to hold that way.

"Are you telling me that if I have the statue, you're tagging along? Whatever /for?/ You're not some weird caretaker for it, are you?" He /does/ look sort of like a butler, but this seems to be taking it a step further into the realm of strange.

However, as he threatens to connect Selina to Catwoman, not that the costume hanging up there isn't a dead giveaway, her lips tighten and thin out. "I might be," she allows.


"Hah! Impressive." Mister Malcolm replies as the Catwoman admits to the first half of her true identity. Clapping his gloved hands once in the wake of the thunderclap of the whip. Again no threat seems to phase him, nor does he seem particularly dangerous now that he's disarmed.
The Cat has been in the presence of many dangerous fighting men and this is not one of them. Not to say he cannot be full of secret dangerous. The world is a mysterious place, after all.

Taking note of the woman's expression he waves his hand, shaking his head, "Oh don't worry! I won't tell a soul." Grinning as he again crosses his arms and leans forward, still seated comfortably on the bed, "It's not like I know the Bat after all. That is who you Gotham men and women fear, yes?"

The strange butler then circles back to the earlier point, leaning back leisurely again, "I suppose it will be a mystery of the universe. Now come." Patting the bed once again, "Make yourself comfortable. Or if you absolutely must, you can go find pants. Though I assure you that would be the worst crime perpetrated by you tonight."


If she didn't confirm it verbally, the sight of the costume and the expert handling of the bullwhip gives it away for Mr. Gray Malcom: Selina Kyle is Catwoman.

Of course, possessing that statue makes it a little more obvious as well.

The whip is hung up with the rest of her gear, and there's a mild hint of relief that shows when he vows to keep the secret. "Well, that's good to hear. I wouldn't want to have to seek a little payback if you did. As for the bat, who says I'm afraid of him?" She doesn't sound like she is, nor does she look at it if body language is a sign.

At the invitation to have a seat, followed by the observation he makes, she flashes him a /look/ and says abruptly, "Stay there. I'll be right back." She exits the room, whether he follows in some way or not, returning in about half a minute with a long, comfortable-looking bathrobe in place. She must be all about the crime.

"Now, would you like to explain how you knew what I did, and where to find me? I checked for tracking devices."


As she protests her fear of the Bat, Grey only laughs once but not in denial of that point. Most people he brings the question of the Bat up with have at least a tinge of fear, even here in New York City. Her lack of concern invoking the Caped Crusader seems to impress him yet again.
There is no hint of concern at the threat buried in her consolation. He does offer a sigh of resignation as she orders him to stay and leaves the room. He spreads his arms in a helpless shrug as he waits for her to leave. Only then does he rise to inspect the bedroom again, meandering over to the window and drawing the curtains enough to spy the street beyond.
As she returns his back is turned to her as he replies casually, "My dear I've been with you the entire time." He comments, turning his head to look over his shoulder, blue eye affixed to her, "Your instincts do you credit. Most would never even have suspected me but you? Aaaah I saw it in your posture, your eyes even behind those fetching goggles of yours. You knew something was amiss.."


If he knew anything about the interactions between Batman and Catwoman, Grey might understand that she finds him more of a curiosity or interest compared to someone to fear. That alone ought to hint at there being something wrong with her. Who /doesn't/ fear the bat?

She appears smug at whatever reaction he has to her back in the bathrobe, which is a stark contrast to the catsuit. It's her turn to squint at him again. "The whole time? Since when?" She looks and sounds skeptical of this, crossing her arms while managing to keep that statue comfortably held, nodding slowly as he recognizes her awareness.

"Go on.." she replies, seeming content to hear more compliments, platitudes.


"That's all there is to it." Mister Malcolm answers succinctly to her request for more. He then turns to face her, gloved hand dusting his pristinely clean shoulder. "Since you took the statue of course. So.. I'm curious." Tilting his head, folding his hands together behind the small of his back as he regards the robed woman with his strange eyes, "Where are you planning on selling it? To some rich private collector? I'll save you some time and tell you it was carved by King Solomon the Wise himself. I assure you with proper verification by leading archeologists it could be worth a great deal. I imagine if you sold it to some public institution they may ask a great many questions about where you found it.."


"A shame," Selina says, almost looking disappointed that he doesn't have more to say in her favor. If there was any question she's got more 'cat' in her than just the outfit, let all doubt be removed.

"You say that like I should understand why," the woman remarks to his words about when he became aware of her. "And who said I was just going to sell it? I like things that have to do with cats. Maybe I'll just keep it for a while." She takes on a thoughtful look, reaching into the robe for a smartphone. "King Solomon, hmm? Let's see what I can find out about that." She thumb-taps that and 'statue' into a search engine, keeping one eye on the man all the while.


The mystery man smiles at her disappointment. The glimmer in his oddly colored eyes suggest he has more to say but he's keeping those words close to the vest for now. He again chuckles as she calls him out on the mystery, not seemingly interested in clarifying as he hopelessly shrugs again as she catches his omission.

The fact that she is not interested in selling it genuinely surprises him as his eyebrows lift. "Well then. Catness." Underscoring her new nickname he just thought up, "You'll be getting used to me then. For a while."
As she brandishes the phone yet another of his singular laughs is uttered as he shakes his head and gives her time to look it up. Even now still amazed at how much knowledge is at modern man's fingertips.


A little time is taken to read up on a few particulars about King Solomon, only for Selina to level a stern look Grey's way at something. The phone is pocketed and she does not look amused.

"For starters, we are not doing 'Catness.' That is not going to be a thing, and if you're going to be tagging along with me, you don't come sneaking into my bedroom like some kind of fancy-looking creeper. Got it?"

Whatever she got to the point of reading or not on the phone, she holds up a hand and adds, "Wait. Wait, wait, wait. Roll all of this back a bit. Exactly /why/ am I going to be seeing you around as long as I have this?" The statue is held out, the front of it facing him. "Explain."


"Catness it is!" Grey claps his hands together again, delighted! However at her further admonishment his face dares to approach a pout, "I suppose I could be a sloven-looking creeper but I would be entirely unhappy about it."

As she protests and demands answers he replies, "Ah. Observe."
He turns then and calmly opens the window behind him. The curtains flare as the chilly dead of night air fills the room. He then turns about and hops up, seating himself on the frame and the many story drop below. Placing his hands unsupportively beside his hips he offers, "Come then. Push me." His eyes challenging her as not a shred of fear crosses his features.


Advancing until she's pretty much in Grey's face, Selina jabs a finger toward his nose, stopping no more than an inch short of it. "No. Selina when I'm me." The same finger then redirects toward the outfit hanging on the door. "Catwoman when I'm that. And if you /are/ going to be here, you can stay at least looking presentable. Selina Kyle, wealthy socialite, can't be seen with someone who looks like a bum unless I'm doing something charitable."

It's still early in the morning, middle of the night, dark outside, so there isn't a lot going on down below as the man props himself up on the windowsill. She simply stares at him and his suggestion. "Push you? Are you insane?"


Mister Malcolm's smile seems proportionally opposite to the distance between them as his smile grows with each of her steps. His eyes do not cross towards the finger point as they remain firmly locked with her own gaze. For long silent moments he wordlessly considers her firm statement, perhaps considering testing her resolve once again. After a long moment he finally replies in a quiet yet amused tone, "So be it, Miss Kyle." A slow tone that suggests he relents .. For now.

He remains perched on the windowsill, his hands limply resting beside his hips on the frame as he's slightly hunched to better fit within the frame. It would be a trivial matter to push him over towards.. If not death, than many months in the hospital and a lifetime of cripledom. Which continues to concern him not at all.
"Seeing is believing. Just try to get rid of me." Eyes narrowing with that sly dare. Gotham is familiar with this brand of insanity, this would be the sort of dare the infamous Joker would give the Dark Knight.. Doubtless in an attempt to force him to do something out of character.

What sort of character is Selina Kyle?


"Good. I'm glad we could get on the same page, Mr. Malcolm," Selina tells Grey, satisfied that the names won't be an issue. For now.

The more important matter becomes the man teasing the fall, encouraging her to send him to near-certain death barring some surprise, but the more he tries to coax her into it, the more reluctant she seems to follow through on it. "I don't know what kind of person you think I am. Yes, I'm a thief. I'm a cat burglar." Literally, as she stole a cat statue tonight. "But this? That's a line I'm not willing to cross just to play some kind of game, if that's what this even is. Now get back inside and close the window."


Again that playful chuckle. The mystery man casts her a sidelong smile as he hops down from the window, standing uncomfortably close for a moment before simply walking away from the open window. He seems to disregard the latter half of her order as he steps around her and back into the room proper.
"Good to know your limitations, Miss Kyle."
If she does happen to turn back to the window to close it for herself she would see the window suddenly slide closed on its own accord before her eyes. Or clacking behind her loudly if not.

"Well then, Thief and Cat Burglar." Looking about the room quickly as he places his hands behind the small of his back again, tut tut'ing the decor, "For all your grand larceny you don't have much to show for it. A rather demeaning domicile for such a 'wealthy socialite'. Down on our luck are we?" As he moves over to run his gloved finger along a small table, checking it for dust it would seem.


Selina is left shaking her head slowly. "You may be annoying, but I'm not a murderer." Especially not in a way like that. She'd have to have a /very/ good reason, and that didn't come close. "But I said—"

That's when the window comes back down without anyone touching it, just as she's turning to look back that way. "Uh." She wasn't fully awake yet when the lights were turned on, but this? She saw it, and she's looking back at the man with a newfound mix of curiosity and confusion. And..uncertainty?

"This is a safe house," she says simply, but distractedly. There's a bit of dust on the table, collecting on that fingertip. "And I have a simple apartment. I don't need a flashy penthouse."


"Really? How odd."
He continues roaming the room again, this time visibly inspecting how little she possesses here. "I would think the main reason you became a thief was because you desperately coveted what you did not have.."
Turning then as he crosses his arms, leaning back against an adjacent wall comfortably. Regarding he with curious eyes as he continues his questions without much thought for the questions of her own, "Since you are the infamous Cat Woman of Gotham, who may be the single most larcenous entrepreneur who's managed to evade that omnipresent Bat Man.. why I expected profound trophies of your success." Spreading his arms then.

"A simple apartment? My dear woman, why do you risk SO much for so very little?"


Selina has not let go of the statue yet, taking on a rather possessive way of keeping it close to her side. "I do it because I can, because I'm good at it," she explains. "The money's good, but I put a lot of it back into other things. More than that, I enjoy the challenge." She keeps a healthy distance between the two while they remain in the same room, small as it is, and the answer to his last couple questions says a lot about her way of thinking.

"Where would you /expect/ someone like me to live? Where would /Batman/ expect someone like me to live? A lavish penthouse or mansion with a full wine cellar? A pool filled with champagne? Diamonds piled from floor to ceiling?" She shakes her head. "Nobody expects a plain, small apartment. It blends right in with all the other places out there."


"Curiouser and curiouser." Malcolm replies as the Catwoman divulges the truth behind her thieving escapades. He seems to accept that description at face value as he slowly nods, processing this with a soft hum. Crossing an arm to prop up his elbow as his fingers rub his lower lip in contemplation. He sees no reason to close the distance between them, especially if it keeps her calm.
Her panic isn't his objective.. For now.
"Is that what you want?" His eyes twinkle, "A lavish penthouse and full wine cellar?" Arm lowering as he tilts his head, "A pool filled with champagne?"
Straightening from the wall, "Diamonds piled from floor to ceiling?"
Gloved hands rub together as he muses,

"If you answer truthfully.. I'll tell you my secret."


Selina passes the man on the way to the door with the catsuit hanging from it. She removes the hanger, holding the costume, the whip, and the shoulder bag that still has the cash inside. A few spots on the catsuit get a little buffing up with one of the robe's sleeves.

Without looking back toward the man, she seems to be aware of his positioning as she says, "If I wanted all of that, I'd already have it." She begins to fit the statue back in the bag. Preparing to leave?


Though she strides past like the question is completely unimportant, to Grey it is not. His eyes watch her with the most attention she's received from him yet. Listening so very carefully even as she buffs out the smallest scuff on her infamous suit.

He sighs with some disappointment, but she seems to be telling the truth.
"I am the statue." The man states factually, fulfilling his end of the bargain as his eyes close. Seeing no reason to turn and follow her..

..After all if he's telling the truth, she's carrying him along anyway.


This gets her to stop what she's doing, Selina looking back at him with no small amount of disbelief. She stops with the statue about a third of the way into the bag, pulling it back out as she holds it such that she can look at both it and him in the same glance.

"You don't look anything like it," she tells him in a deadpan, looking around the bedroom again before she moves on toward the safe house's main room.


"Oh really?" The bemused fellow states as he crosses his arms, watching her leave the room and entering the main area without following.

Which is when she'll notice a new addition to the main living area. A black cat is currently sitting on the center-most table within. The house cat's tail swishes to and fro at it's haunches as it stares at Selina as she enters.

It's eyes are feline yet blue and gold.
"What about now?" The cat states. His lips move with the words in an uncanny fashion that should only exist in cartoons and movies yet is real nonetheless. While its difficult to translate real human emotion in a feline's face.. The amusement is hard to miss.
Should she look behind her the suited man is gone, as if he never was.


"Really," the woman retorts, her back facing him as she moves on, about to veer into the kitchen area only to see the black cat right there in the middle of the room. This gets her attention, then the eyes, finally the voice as it speaks, clear as can be.

Selina goes back to studying the statue, then the cat, repeating her glances for a few more seconds. "All right. That's a neat trick." A look back toward the bedroom confirms he's no longer there, then the statue is set down on the table next to the cat, which she reaches for in order to pick up. "This is almost fitting, you know? But..how?" she wonders, holding the feline before her.


Stunningly the creature is no illusion. The cat watches the statue being set down with an inscrutable look before the feline is picked up without resistance. The creature is soft and warm, precisely as a cat should feel. Perhaps a touch warmer than the cool air should suggest. His small form shifts and wiggles into her arms to better settle himself, paws working at her fluffy sleeve as a purr emanates from him as he speaks again.
"I have many tricks but it's true." Grymalkin's ear flicks as he looks up to her, the cat again speaking as he continues, "Let's just say.. It's magic!" His feline expression emphasizing the word with equal parts depreciation and comedy, "Since you've been straight with me I'll give you a piece of advice." His tail flicking, hanging from her arms like that 50's clock.
"If you don't want riches and fame.. You'd best put me back where you found me and call it 'Challenge Completed'."


For a moment, she just can't help herself. Selina brings the talking cat's nose up to hers and gives it a little touch and rub. Sure, she likes cats. After all, she took after them as part of her whole criminal side. The purring could almost be a disarming thing, but she grins at the pawing felt along the sleeve of the robe.

"There could be worse tricks than turning into a cute little cat," she says almost mirthfully, shaking her head. "And who says I don't want riches and fame? I can't just take that..you..whatever back. Not yet, anyway." She's clearly curious to find out more, leading to her wondering, "But how does this all work?"


The dark feline rubs his snout against Selina's nose, continuing forward as he rolls his cheek against hers in a very feline way. His purr is felt as much as heard. If this is merely a 'ploy' at being a cat, Grey Malcolm is very good at it. Acting as naturally as a cat as he was as a man. Which begs the question.. Which is he? Man or Cat?

"You said you don't want riches and fame!" The cat protests almost comically, swiping a paw to bap her on the nose painlessly as he adds, "Diamonds piled from floor to ceiling I said! And you were.." mimicking her voice crudely as his head bobs back and forth, "'If I wanted that I'd already have iiiiit'. Feh!" The cat looks away then, whiskers bristling in the motion.
"Where you lying to me or what? Because if I can't trust you I'm not telling you a single thing more. Besides.." The cat looks sidelong back up to her, an unnatural look from a cat, "Maybe I was telling you for your own good." His ear flicking at that.


Selina peers at the animal-that-was-a-person, noting the very catty mannerisms out of it that then shift over to include more human-like ones. That's just a little difficult for her to make total sense of, but after the brushing of his cheek to hers along with the light batting she goes back to holding him more at arm's length, squinting. "I said I don't need a fancy penthouse, the pool, the piles of diamonds. You can be rich and famous without all that excess, you know."

She sets the cat back down on the table, right next to the statue, then she walks around the room for a spell. "I'm known as a wealthy socialite into charities, like helping big cat sanctuaries, the needy in some of the worst parts of Gotham City, and things like that. The socialite thing itself? It's all an act. Most of the snobby people you see at those events? I can't stand them. They walk around with their noses in the air, thinking they're so much better than everyone else just because they have a lot of numbers in their bank accounts. Sometimes I like to remind them there's more to life than how much money you have."

But, before her 'visitor' can answer, she adds, "Yes, I'm a thief. I steal things. Some of them I keep, some of them I don't. I'm good at it and I get a thrill out of it, but I don't take from people who can't afford to lose a little something. Sometimes I'll sneak into a museum and get a little something to resell for a profit, but why not? I like to live comfortably, and I like some of the finer things in life, but it doesn't define me. I remember where I came from."

Is she contradicting herself in some of that? Probably. There's sure to be some delusion in the mind of one who breaks the law like she does, but it sounds, in some twisted way, like her heart may be in the right place in the end.


The magical cat is placed on the table and settles himself on his haunches once more, mirroring the sitting cat statue not far from his side. He watches her then, listening to her intently as his tail swishes. Following her movement with his odd eyes.
His muzzle then moves to comment but she cuts him off successfully, he returns to listening as he offers a quiet huff.
Once finished he remains silent, perhaps thinking over what she said or waiting to see if she continues. Maybe a little of both. The surest sign of this thoughts are his tail, slowly sweeping behind him on the surface of the table.

"A .. Hypothetical question for you. Then." Grey finally continues, eyes following her carefully. "If you had the power, what would you wish for? Since you enjoy the 'taking' with your own two hands far more than the 'having'.. It sounds like you're content with what your current life, hrn?"


There ought to be little doubt Selina/Catwoman gets the biggest thrill out of successfully pulling off a job. Situations like this night are not the most common, when she goes into something blindly without knowing what she may find, but it's another part of the challenge, the test.

Stopping closer to the kitchen area, she squints at the talking cat for a good, long while, some fifteen seconds or so passing by before she responds. Even then, she sounds uncertain. "I'd probably wish for..things to have gone differently with my family, first. But things happen for a reason and it doesn't help to look back and wonder what might have been. This is what is, here and now." She notes herself, the minimal decorations in the safehouse, the table with the two cats on it, one breathing, one not.

"If you're wondering if I'd wish for something like world domination..no. That's not me. Maybe I'd wish that we didn't need sanctuaries for animals, like the big cats, but nobody can change the way people are. There's mistreatment everywhere, in many ways."


The magical feline does not break eye contact for all fifteen seconds. Judging. Weighing. Considering.

Her answer is accepted with equal silence, finally breaking eye contact as the black cat stands up and prowls in a wide circle on the table.. Not unlike her own pacing.
Eventually he stops and looks back to her, "The statue is indestructible by the by.. So don't worry about breaking it." His tone almost.. Rueful at that strange anecdote which becomes clearer as he continues, "I'm going to rest now. I can always hear from the statue if you want to talk again but not tonight. You should sleep and perhaps, if you don't return me then we'll speak again when you go home. Your real home."
To which the cat simply walks into the statue.. Completely disappearing into it as if it's black symmetry was some sort of three dimensional door. Leaving the Cat Burglar to wonder if she's gone crazy or not..


Crazy can come in a variety of ways. Is Batman crazy, as someone who dresses up in what he does, doing what he does?

That she can't immediately give a definite answer to what she'd wish for might show that Selina isn't taking the idea lightly. She simply nods to the explanation about the statue and the talk of resting. "It's fine. I already had my catnap. I'm going to pack up here and get back home." Yes, her real home.

The disappearing act leaves her to shake her head. Sure, it could all be some vivid dream she's having, as she goes back to stare closely at the face of the statue, then she sniffs once for some reason or another, picking it up to tuck away in the bag. A change of clothes, the catsuit and the rest packed up, she remakes the bed, warms up and eats some of the leftovers before tossing the rest in the trash outside, and the safehouse is locked back up. Once she takes to the motorcycle, the ride back to Gotham City begins and it's a quiet one for her as the engine purrs.


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