"I hate that you have to do that," Selina sighed. Her gaze conveyed her sorrow as she reached for her first-aid kit. She pulled out the bandages, beginning to cover the slight but present wounds.

There was nothing beautiful about Gotham. It was a filthy city populated by obscene, disgusting men. Her roommate knew this all too well. They'd both seen far too much horror for one lifetime, and they had to keep going, working to pay for their shabby lodgings. Two friends united in misery.

Selina stole from the rich, taking what she needed. She was already beginning to make a name for herself in Gotham's newspapers as a feline thief.

As for her roommate, the latter was working in the pleasure area. A dirty job that demanded far too much compared to the meager pay received. A dangerous, night-time job that required walking the sidewalks in search of prey wealthy enough to pay for the consent, the body. Selina hated it. But she didn't judge her roommate, far from it, she judged the disgusting, hungry predators who paid. No one should have to sell their body, especially not his roomie.

Some took the job too much to heart. Several times, she'd seen her friend come home, absent-minded, and a few wounds⏤never anything too nasty, but it was enough to enrage Selina.

"Give me your client's name, I'll go give him a lesson," she swored. Her hands moved over the bruised skin, applying carefully the cream.

Selina sighed, taking a small breath to calm her irritation. She brushed a strain of hair away from his friend's face. "You want to talk of what happened?" She asked, her tone more gentle. "I promised. One day, you wouldn't have to do that job anymore. I swear, I'll get us out of this."