' ' forgive me ' ' ((Joseph))

[xselena]

The night air was fragrant with the smell of the poverty that had settled over this part of Gotham city. It used to not be this way, just a year or so ago, these streets were teeming with normal citizens, butchers, bakers, candle stick makers, and all that jazz. But all that life, all that light had had washed away, shattered into pieces as the growing crime rate in Gotham flooded over from the slums and ghettos, infecting the areas around it. With that wave of crime, violence, and darkness came the stench of acrid drug smoke, urine, and blood. The infection made the once established families of this neighborhood pack up and leave, afraid for their lives as a strung out junkie haunted their stoop, begging for cash and flashing a switch blade. The filth of Gotham's gutters found itself in another area, with even more victims and this is what happened. Busted streetlamps through most streets into darkness, broken store windows were boarded up with scraps of wood, and graffiti littered almost every surface, even the pavement. The homeless, lifeless, and soberless sat in their makeshift homes of cardboard and garbage, calling out to anyone passing by, for help or a rock of cocaine, anything that will get them to the next minute.

Selena Kyle walked hurriedly down a cracked sidewalk, weeds jutting out of the crevices like hands grasping for the tails of her coat. She kept her head down as she passed by a group of homeless men crowded around a garbage can fire, warming the parts of their bodies that weren't numb. On her face she wore enormous sunglasses in hope of concealing her true identity. She had come here without an entourage, bodyguard, or assistant. She had done this many times before, but each time held with it an equal possibility of danger, and equal possibility of some creep trying to pull one over on her. It was a damn good thing that she could beat down anyone who tried, but there could always be another factor, they could have a gun, and Selena never carried firearms, whether she was Catwoman or not. They just weren't her style. Too loud, too uncivilized. The only time Selena looked up was just as she approached Saint Hubertus. She hurried up the crumbling stairs and pushed the church door open, glancing over her shoulder to see if anyone was following her.

Once inside she looked around the massive room, with it's stain glass windows that were shockingly still in one piece, it's many wooden benches that once sat a large and full congregation, and at the stone pillars that held up the high ceilings. Selena blinked and started to moved down the center, towards the second row of benches, where she always sat when she visited the church, her heels clicking dully against the dust covered hardwood floors. When she came her it was usually empty, but there were a few times when she had seen some citizens praying to the tall statue of Jesus on the cross, tears running down their faces. Selena had always felt horrible when she saw them, for she could feel the sense of complete and utter hopelessness that swelled inside them. She had felt that same way many years ago.

Selena sat down at the spot she always settled down in. It had been the spot she had sat at even as a little girl. She folded her hands in front on her, looking down at the ground for a moment and then up into the face of the lord. And there she stayed for a moment, looking up at Christ, and Christ looking down at her. Selena sighed deeply and her lips parted to speak.

"Forgive me, for I have sinned..."

OUTFIT;; Click!
TAG;; Joseph Matthews
MUSE;; All Through The Night - Cyndi Lauper
NOTES;; He won't know that this is Selena Kyle, because she is currently in 'disguise'.

[joseph]

Not many times did Joseph come out at night. Too many things hid around and he felt paranoid that someone was staring at him. Besides… it was dark and the darkness was not his friend. He could barley keep from tripping over things when he could see them now that their were hidden in the gloomy shadows of the night he’d be a walking laugh for anyone passing by, stumbling around never really falling and always trying to play it off. The moon seemed to be the only thing illuminating Gotham city at night these days. He looked over to a blinking street light that had a few people hovering around it and quickly turned his gaze when they looked his way. Everyone looked so… pitiful and disgusting. He winced thinking about being near them and their grimy hands brushing past his white suit. This made him hurry on to his destination only to trip over a random old board lying in the middle of what used to be a sidewalk.

He frowned at himself, “How could I… not have seen that?”

Regaining his posture and continuing on, he made his way up the stairs of the old church making sure to hold onto what was left of the old railing. It was rickety and creaked as he kept his hand firmly grasped around it. Finally making it to the door, he slowly stepped inside. The eerie silence of the church always seemed to calm him and he headed towards the statue. This was always his first stop, he had to marvel at it’s glory before going to sit somewhere close and hoping to be forgiven for the innocent that he had slaughtered. There weren’t many but, one was too much when it came to something like that. He didn’t mean to such things. It was just that he couldn’t help it. He had no control over his actions once he blacked out. He wasn’t even sure what kind of person he was when he was in that state. It was like blinking actually. One moment he’s in the middle of a panic attack and the next everything’s over.

After looking up at the statue and having removed his hat, he placed it back on his head as he turned to go and sit down. He noticed a woman who looked to be praying and decided that he would sit a few pews behind her so as to make sure he didn’t get paranoid, no more than he already was. Taking his seat he eyed the woman from behind her then closed his eyes and began to think about the things that he had done. The people that had made him go into one of his not so regular panic attacks came to mind one by one…

An old woman: He hated himself so much for that. He tried to look away and take his mind off of her as she stared. She looked to be senile but, that didn’t change his suspicions. He came back to to see the woman’s throat slashed and her blood on the blue suit he was wearing.

A begging hobo: This one had it coming. He told him to leave him alone that he didn’t have any money for him, which was somewhat of a lie. He did have some money just not for him. This one actually got away with a scratch. Lucky for him Joseph tripped over his two feet.

Only two this month. He was happy to have not gotten caught. The few days he did spend in Arkham were a bore.

[xselena]

Instantly Selena’s mind was flooded with visions of her past. A broken home. A screaming mother. A drinking father. A scarred and shivering sister. Selena having to be brave when all she wanted to do was cry. Blood, so much blood. Her father’s whiskey soaked corpse, cold and dead in his recliner chair. The football game hadn’t even been in the fourth quarter. The half time show featuring the Rolling Stones hadn’t even begun. Her father had loved the Rolling Stones. Then there was the aftermath, the child services and the men and women in worn and dull tweed suits with fifteen dollar haircuts and clouds of cheap fragrances. They looked so tall then, so mighty. Selena and Magdalena’s fate had been in their hands, and they really didn’t care what happened to them. Shoving them in a juvenile and wayward orphanage for girls. It had been dirt, filthy, and cold. The tiny rooms with a bed on a broken box-spring, a stained and scratched dresser barely held their clothes, and a window high up on wall, only letting in a thing shaft of light. It had felt like a prison. Magdalena had long since stopped speaking, shrinking back into the corners of her mind, those terrible corners that embrace a person and tell them everything will get worse, just you wait. Magdalena, that precious little girl with her dark hair and large, bright green eyes. Selena had told her she was leaving, breaking out of that prison in disguise.

“I’ll come back for you…I promise”

“Selena don’t go!”

“I need to. I can’t stand it in this place. I’ll leave and get a job, then I’ll come get you, and we can live somewhere else. Just the two of us."

“I don’t want to be alone.”

“I have to go now Maggie.”

“Selena…”

“What?”

“I love you…”

That had been the last time Selena had saw her sister. She had gone back for her, after around two weeks on the streets of Gotham as a prostitute and dominatrix. She had a solid wad of cash in her purse, three grand to be exact, but when she had asked to withdraw Magdalena from the institution, they had informed her that Magdalena had runaway, gone from the asylum, leaving all her belongings. Selena had been crushed. Magdalena had just gone, and Selena had had no idea. Visions of her little sister wandering the streets searching for her prostitute sister haunted her as she rummage through the things Magdalena had left behind. The only thing Selena had taken was a small silver locket with a picture of herself and Magdalena, embracing each other tightly. Selena had been very young, and her sister, a baby.

When Selena’s eyes opened they were wet with tears. She looked up at the statue again, and could feel it watching her, knowing her thoughts, her past. An immense sense of regret stirred in her heart and she looked away.Magdalena, where are you? You must be…twenty by now. Oh god, you’re a woman.
A whisper of breath behind her is what pulled Selena from her thoughts, the images of the past draining from her mind like water in a sink. Her ears pricked and she was perfectly still, and the instincts of the Catwoman took over. It was the instinct to survive, to thrive. She had no clue who was behind her, and if they had, or didn’t have a knife, or worse a gun. She was in a bad part of town, no doubt about it, but it made Selena genuinely angry that someone would try to jug, rape, or kill her in a church. Selena turned her head, looking over her shoulder at the man behind her, sitting just a few rows behind her.

“Don’t try anything funny, sweetheart, I’m tougher than I look.”

OUTFIT;; Click!
TAG;; Joseph Matthews
MUSE;; Prisoner - Jeffree Star
NOTES;; None!