Communication is dreadful at first.
There isn’t much of a Japanese presence in Gotham–not with New York so close and their prevalence on the west coast instead–and although she finds herself fluent in Italian, bewilderingly enough, she has powerful suspicions of how she ended up in this damned city to begin with.
The reigning mafia family recently had a major shipment disrupted… by a figure in glowing green.
One guess on what the shipment was; none for who the figure is.
Needless to say, Tetsuki is reluctant to follow that avenue.
She’d much rather make do with her minimal English and stammering, questioning translations between Romance languages and, when all that fails, complex charades that ends in futility more than success anyway.
But she barely needs to ask for help to get what she needs–she wonders if maybe she looks that pathetic or if, improbably, Gotham isn’t as heartless as she’d appear to be.
By the time she becomes comfortable with the languages of her new life, talking isn’t all that necessary.
Ivy is more than generous, sheltering and protecting and teaching with no payment needed, but there are some things she cannot provide which she says Tetsuki will need.
Especially if she ever wants to live a life outside of Robinson Park and the gifts of kindness Ivy bestows upon her.
But even in this, Ivy is kind, because she knows someone who can help.
Selina Kyle, perhaps the only Gotham Rogue who has never had a stint in Arkham, is also the best at maintaining her civilian life.
Tetsuki is in desperate need of that. She isn’t even sure if Tetsuki is her real name or just something she made up after being revived by glowing green light. The only clothes she has are some hand me downs from Edmundo’s near infinite sisters and the pair of boots she took from a would be mugger with conveniently small feet.
Tetsuki is basically a feral cat in human form.
Selina Kyle is well suited to this particular job.
Tetsuki becomes a pimp mostly by accident.
“Pimp” is perhaps the wrong word, but “madame” is even further. Bouncer would work if she were at a specific venue with consistent hours and pay, but as it is, she mostly just drops in and rains fiery green hell on any john who gets too violent and lets their would-be-victims play with her hair until their hands stop shaking.
She makes sure they get the money they earned and takes the rest for herself.
The workers get protection and payment, the Vasquez garage get an influx in cars, and Tetsuki figures out that she can electrocute people with her bare hands if she’s angry enough.
In a matter of weeks, Tetsuki’s nine block territory sees an increase in its night time population.