Dinah x Helena + siren!Helena
A Siren and a Songbird
Gotham is⦠weird.
Itās loud and bright and dark, thereās so much going on and yet no one seems to know where theyāre going. No oneās paying any attention.
Helena could last a long while in a place like this.
She can smell the death and decay in the air, and no one asks questions when someone turns up missing.
All that can wait, though. Sheās here for a reason, and itās not looking for new hunting grounds.
Revenge. So close she can almost taste the blood on her lips. ___
Itās simple recon when Helena slips into the club, not really expecting to find anything of interest.
Just more of the same- flashy people drowning themselves in colors and noise, so desperate to be noticed, and desperate to lose themselves in the throng of sweaty club-goers pressed against their skin.
They never stop to think about what might be lurking in the shadows, just whose attention they might be attracting.
They never consider that once they get lost among the crushing waves of bodies and heat, they might never be found.
All presumptions of a boring, straightforward night of observation are shattered when the woman on stage starts singing.
At first, Helena thinks itās another siren.
The hair on the back of her neck stands on end, a shiver running down her spine. The singerās voice draws her in, and Helena canāt look away. Doesnāt want to.
She doesnāt so much as glance in Helenaās direction, but the words spilling from her lips are transfixing.
No, not the words. The sounds.
Itās her voice. Itās the way she moves, itās the shape of her mouth as it curls around bitterness, itās the mastery of the control and power and feeling she puts in every note- itās everything about her. The lyrics are nothing next to her, without her, and she is-
She is-
Thereās nothing supernatural about her singing. Sheās just that good.
And so beautifully human.













