<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/746DLPB.png)</div><br/><br/><br/><br/><hr/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 7pt;">        <strong>NAME:</strong></span><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;"> Catwoman</span><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 7pt;">        <strong>LOCATION:</strong></span><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;"> Watchtower</span><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 7pt;">        <strong>DATE/TIME:</strong></span><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;"> 10/26/17 | 3:00 AM</span><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 7pt;">        <strong>TAGGING:</strong></span><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;"> Fate</span><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 7pt;">        <strong>CONTENT:</strong></span><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;"> G</span><br/><hr/><br/><br/><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: verdana;">Visage swivels briefly from the now prisoner back to Fate, nodding lightly before they resumed their voyage.<br/><br/>Drawn to the conglomeration of the Milky Way as if by enchantment, a bone-tired and disheveled siren silently strides behind Fate. Apple cheeks and the tip of her nose flushed rosy from the cold of the warehouse, it blossoms in the warmth of the Watchtower. She had no expectations for what she would find within. Selina spares another lascivious look toward the man whilst their striding continues to an expanse of vibrant oblivion. It's at once both enthralling and quite nightmarish; peaceful in an eerie way. Content to stand in full view, she removes her goggles to behold the sight in its entirety. Fate gave the impression of being unhindered her nonchalance, and personable enough that her features soften without any mask present.  <br/><br/><strong>"Heh. Thanks, though I'm sure there'll be a few to not like me onboard..." </strong><br/><br/>Her words falter, perishing in the tapestry of beauty unparalleled. There's nothing manmade this bejeweled, she'd know. Panic stirs mortal organ, like a butterfly flapping its wings at the summery caress of a breeze. Poise in diaphanous countenance, Earth bathes irises in their lustrous gleam, emeralds smoldered by coal. She stares hard, keeping the brimming swell at bay for as long as she can before eyne squint, blinking away all evidence of tenderhearted candor. Instead, she resorts to old tricks of cat and canary, seraphic smiling tells a tale of not the fall from grace but the freedom of leaping. <br/><br/><strong>"You sure know how to impress a girl, Lucky. How could I ever say no to... this?" </strong><br/><br/>Her hand lifts, waving toward the view. <br/><br/><strong>"Part of me thinks you already knew that... but as much as I'd love to pick your brain, I should probably go get cleaned up first." </strong><br/><br/>Canting leather-like cat ears, she indicates the small wound wet against the matte black of attire and two more one-inch lacerations near it. <br/>  </span></span>