Sereina Vash sat on the back of her custom motorcycle, checking out the street before her. It was empty, which wasn't much of a surprise; it normally was.
Sereina sighed. It was a boring night. Just like every other night. Sereina had decided at an early age—earlier than her current age of twenty-one—that she would be there to help those who couldn't help themselves, like her sister Alessia, who died in a school fire at the age of six.
Ten at the time, Sereina felt it was unfair that her sister was the one that died; she still felt that way. Some had been hurt, and a number had died like her sister. She had been plagued with questions since that fire: Why wasn't Alessia just hurt? Why did she have to die?
Sereina blinked back a few tears as she thought about her playful, giggling sister. So much she had wanted to do with her, but so little time.
"It just isn't fair."
The words weren't spoken to anyone in particular, so Sereina didn't expect an answer. "You're telling me."
Sereina spun around, her silver skinny jeans shimmering in the moonlight. The rips in them showed her pale white skin, which contrasted with her coal-black motorcycle jacket. The coat covered her dark blue and silver corset, which she had picked out as her own crime-fighting outfit.
Stuffed in a pack on the side of her bike was her dark blue mask. If she had expected someone to walk up behind her in this alleyway, she wouldn't have left if off. Heck, she wouldn't have been so unprepared.
Her eyes flicked to the end of the scythe on the back of her bike. If she needed it quickly, she would have to move fast.
But that was no problem with her.
"Hello," she greeted the stranger with a mumble. The guy before her was tall and wiry, with thick black glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. He smiled broadly at Sereina, his young face beaming with apparent happiness. The whole figure of the young guy was a unique mix of funny, cute, and a bit unsettling.
"Hi." The response was brisk, and Sereina didn't know whether or not that was a good or bad thing.
"Erm…my name's Sereina. What's yours?"
"Edward Nygma. I work for the Gotham City Police Department, forensics division."
Now he's right to the point. Better than worse, I suppose. "I…well, I work…" She fumbled for the correct words as Nygma stared at her, apparently waiting for her to finish. "At home. It's…an online job."
"Ah. I see." His smile faltered for a bit, before it reappeared. "Oh. Oh! I get it now—it's a riddle, isn't it!" Sereina arched an eyebrow. "I just love riddles!" he cackled. "Now, let's see…"
Sereina shook her head, confused and a bit worried. "Well, no, I'm sorry, it isn't a riddle. It's…just a statement. I work online."
The smile disappeared again. "Oh. I see." He examined her bike quickly. "An interesting ride." He ran a hand down the chrome shell. His eyes flicked to her next. "And an interesting choice of clothing. I…I never think I've seen someone wearing a corset out on the streets before."
Easy for someone wearing a green tie to say…
Nygma saw that she was looking at him curiously now. "Well…uh…I guess I'd better get going along now. I…well, I just got off of work and I saw you walking and I thought I'd say hello." He smiled again. "Well…goodbye."
Sereina nodded slowly, smiling back sheepishly. "Yeah. Bye."
Nygma turned on his heel and marched out of the alleyway, his slick black shoes pattering on the asphalt. Sereina gave the entire encounter a double take before shaking her head, climbing on the back of her motorcycle. "I'd better get out of here before some other nut shows up. One nut is enough for one night."
It's been a long time, hasn't it?
I'm really sorry for not posting in a long time. However, I am now planning on getting back to writing on this story regularly. Thanks for reading and (hopefully) understanding! Let me know what you think in the reviews and PM me any questions about the story. This character in this chapter is Sereina Vash, also known as Vaina, created by POMForever.
Thanks again for reading, and I hope you enjoyed. Until next time!