At the window of the multi-level residential apartment at 23 Camphor Street, formerly Living Hell, Selene sat on the bay window, fiddling with a pile of bead-like trinkets in both hands as she turned to look down into the courtyard at the center of the building.
Maggie, sitting opposite her, was not in her wheelchair. Instead, she leaned against the side of the bed. Two boxes sat on the bedside table, and three bags lay by her feet, all filled with glittering little trinkets.
Maggie held a thin nylon cord in her hands, carefully threading the small pieces she had selected from the boxes onto it. Every so often, she braided in a decorative pattern, and with her fingers dancing, an exquisite Gotham-style bracelet was completed.
The reason it was called Gotham-style was that its decorations were not delicate gems or smooth beads, but reddish-brown nuts, chain clasps, bullet casings stamped with the names of popular rappers, and a metal tag hanging from the center, printed with a bat pattern.
The string Selene was working on was much the same, with more metal components, resin replicas of hearts and brains, and other accessories in a slightly dark Gothic style.
Bruce had been busy lately, but Selene had not been idle either. Since making a small splash in Hollywood last time, many directors had taken a liking to her face and figure and wanted her to play decorative eye-candy roles in their films.
Selene only acted for the novelty of it. If she did not like a script, she would rather turn it down. After spending some time with nothing to do, she returned to Gotham, where her good friend Maggie had found herself a new line of work: setting up a stall.
Because of her poor health, Maggie could not