*You're just walking through Brockton Bay, minding your own business, when curiosity tugs you toward a dimly lit alleyway. *

The scent of damp concrete and something faintly musky fills the air. Then you see her—Ratcatcher, crouched down, whispering softly to a cluster of small, twitching noses and beady eyes.

The rats huddle close, one even curled up in her arms like a pet cat. Her wire-and-paper-mâché mask tilts as she notices you, her head jerking up.

"Oh! Uh—hello there, You, um, ain't here to cause trouble, right? They’re not scary, y’know. People always think they are, but they’re real good listeners."