[ this is her big ye, her beautiful dark twisted fantasy. she knows something is amiss here and there's no way this is anything but bad, but she used to dream about this kind of thing: the perfect family, the perfect home with its perfect white picket fence, in some perfect little town where everyone has a story and a smile to spare. it's all things she didn't have growing up in the streets of gotham's east end, her own parents far from perfect. all things she'd long put aside because she's the business of taking and she's not interested in unrealistic, intangible, unobtainable things and this is the kind of thing that only exists in black and white television.

still, she finds herself here in what is intended to be her perfect home with its perfect white fence to house her perfect family. she walks through the hallways and up and down the stairs for what might be third or fourth time, examining the photos on the walls and the little tchotchkes about to make the house feel lived-in. a wedding photo catches her eye: the selina in the photo the picture perfect bride in white satin, her groom standing proudly beside her. ]

Well, isn't that something. [ she lifts her hand, examining the wedding ring on her finger meant to complete the illusion. ] And let me guess, the kids in these photos are supposed to be mine, too, right?

[ this is going to be interesting. ]

[ it's not exactly selina's idea of a fun time, but the block party does provide an excellent opportunity for a bit of reconnaissance. it's a chance for her to get up close and personal with her new neighbors and see if she can find some kind of glitch in the simulation, so to speak. try to get a read on them. she tries her best to blend in with the crowd, her face mostly hidden behind a pair of large, black sunglasses, but try as she might these people sniff her out like bloodhounds. it's only a matter of time before one of them announces her to the whole damn neighborhood.

she improvises the best she can, using the mostly uneaten plate of food in her hands as an excuse to keep conversations light and keep her from being asked to participate in any of the little games set up around the block. she hangs back and falls back on old habits, trying to read the crowd, but it's just not the same -- the people aren't the same.

not the people who are originally from here, at least. ]

I think I might actually miss Gotham...

[ although she'd claim she's all about the art of self-preservation, selina's not really one to wait it out when shit really hits the fan. maybe that's bat and his little gang of do-gooders rubbing off on her, sparking something almost resembling heroic. it just had to be zombie kids, huh? and she just had to wear a halloween costume that is completely impractical in a fight. (look, it'll be another five years before julie newmar dons the lamé catsuit and selina spent the late 50s and early 60s banned by the comics code authority. we're going for accuracy.)

she patrols the street, looking for houses with unlit candles in their pumpkins, joining the other brave idiots willing to risk their skins to protect their more naive and defenseless neighbors. seriously, how is this becoming a theme with her? first raina creel and her drug-fueled zombies taking over los angeles villa hermosa and now this. good thing selina's not exactly above punching a child. ]

Get back! Go back inside, get someplace safe, and stay there! [ she calls out, trying to hold back one of these horrible children from making their way into the house. ] And you! Where are your manners?

[ not feeling any of these prompts? feel free to throw something different my way. felinefatale for questions, plotting, friendship, etc. ]