If it wasn't one thing, it was another. Selina was getting tired of "another" being synonymous with "Arkham" when the asylum didn't even exist in this damn city.

At least most of her was. A small sliver was almost comforted by the familiarity.

She really hated that part of herself.

The costume and the rooftops were familiar enough too, and she let herself enjoy the trip across the city. Not so much that she arrived late, of course. She was a professional when it came to these things.

It appeared her contact was too -- the woman had beat her there. Selina landed on the roof in a crouch, pushing up her goggles. "Natasha, I presume?"