"Yeah, no shit they change." She sent him a meaningful look. This wasn't the Gotham she'd spent years defending. Those had been dark years for her, full of addictions, secrets, and anger she didn't know what to do with - but they were nothing to this. When fires burned then and people like Penguin and Two-Face warred, Batman was right around the corner to put things back to the way it should be. "And I haven't seen your Gotham yet, Dent. Don't intend to have this conversation with you, either." After the last Crisis? Fuck the multiverse.

Once the mask was off, Renee moved to her tiny bathroom off the living room - the first room they'd walked into. Her face was cut up, and there was a big gash over her left eye. Muttering curses to herself, she splashed water over her face, wiping off sweat and drying blood, before trying to tend to the gash. Glancing over when he gestured, she looked back at the mirror, thinking.

Well. Fuck.

"Pseudoderm," she finally said. She could answer that question, even if it might raise three or four others.