Hi all! This one is more serious. I wanted to talk about Selina's view on her antihero role. Hope I managed to do it!
This hallway is my hall of fame. It is an epiphany to my glory, to my genius, to my "I".
All this luxury is a reward for my decisions, my perseverance, my straightforwardness.
Most of it is illegal, indecent, immoral... as *he* would say.
Well, what if I took a bit of the pie of those rich snobs. It is not like they are dying from hunger. It is far from it.
I am walking with my chin up, though parcel in my hands is pulling me to the ground.
Decisions...
They were mostly easy when we talk about this hall. Money.
Somehow along the way I understood why you often said that money wasn't a problem.
They stopped being a problem to me. Other things, however, became them.
One can gather working girls under one's wing and make money. But one will need to close eyes on some of the abusive clients and drunk desperation in the eyes of the youngest.
One can rent one's basement for drug traffic and make money. But one will see old friends getting wasted and then sooner or later overdosed.
One can flood the market with guns and make money. But one will need to bury a few friends who will die with a hole in their chest.
One can do all that...
One can.
I can and then hear more dreadful news from a knight who is trying to fight it.
The knight whose hands would tremble after he would tell me about the girl who overdosed on his hands the same moment the ambulance arrived.
An old lady killed for 5 bucks that junky needed for the dose.
About a boy who was shot in the street. Collateral damage to street gangs.
I would take his hand to stop it from trembling.
Or maybe because I would be afraid to show my own trembling.
So this parcel, yes, it is heavy.
I leave the building. Night air fills my lungs, cold fills my veins. Gotham is in me, part of me.
I see a shadow moving next to me. I don't move. I let him think that he is in control.
I feel his presence right behind me. He carefully takes the parcel from my outstretched hand.
"Thank you for helping me," he says with distorted voice. I smile slightly and shrug.
The shadow rushes and it is again only me and Gotham.
The knight can think what he wants from it. After all, I hadn't helped him. I've helped myself.