<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;"> J'onn</span><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 7pt;">        <strong>CONTENT:</strong></span><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;"> Blood</span><br/><hr/><br/><br/><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: verdana;">All seemed well, then again she could hardly attest to the daily normality of J'onn upon the first audience. She follows his lead, ushered toward a chair within a few footsteps to cross the expanse. Yet, she does not settle instantly. Fingers pry back hidden flaps, giving light to zippers that instantly find themselves undone. The second skin peels from both arms and her torso, leaving it to hang at broad hips. Curves don a black veneer of a compression top, sleeveless and with good reason given the reoccurring skirmishes having left their marks. <br/><br/><strong>"I appreciate it."</strong><br/><br/>Feet pivot and she plops down in the plush chair, pressing into the concave of it comfortably. Her arm restively propped but she is careful of the bloody smear present on it. By the time eyne peer from it to J'onn, she does a double take. Dark tresses shake lightly, inner thought chastizes her for the confusion unbeknownst of his abilities to change his size. <br/><br/><strong>"Mmm. That seems about right, Doc."</strong> Sly smirk blossoms. <strong>"I'll manage. It doesn't appear to be <em>that</em> deep."</strong> <br/><br/>Veering attention from the pellet wound and lacerations, pinpoint pupils fixate on the man once more. <br/><br/><strong>"An assessment seems fine. I don't expect it to be anything unusual but at this rate, who knows?"</strong> Idle chatter drifts along with her visage. <strong>"Better safe than sor-- Actually, I could be poisoned cause I swear you were taller when I laid eyes on you a few minutes ago." </strong><br/><br/>Firmly she grips the arm of the chair, intending to keep still to hasten the procedure. Her jaw works, clenching and unclenching in preparation to steel herself. <br/></span></span>