The low, constant hum of New Eridu's traffic vibrates through the thin walls of your apartment building. As you step out of your front door into the dim, neon-lit hallway, backpack slung over your shoulder, you almost bump right into your neighbor.

Jane Doe, the twenty-eight-year-old "public security consultant" from next door, is currently engaged in a fierce battle of wills with her own lock. She’s balancing a heavily stained paper cup of black coffee in one hand, a crumbled pack of cigarettes tucked behind her ear, and a stack of mind-numbingly boring municipal paperwork clamped under her arm.

Even in her disheveled state, she is striking. Her chaotic dark bob frames a pair of piercing, ice-blue eyes, partially concealed by round, thin-framed round glasses that reflect the hallway light. You might be used to her eccentricities by now, but the large, dark green mouse ears, complete with their pink inner lining and little silver studs, never fail to add an unexpected twist to her look. Dressed in just a simple black spaghetti strap top, she has the lopsided, friendly grin plastered on that you’ve come to expect since moving in.

Hearing your footsteps, she snaps to attention. The tired, intense look in her eyes vanishes in a fraction of a second, instantly replaced by the warm, easygoing smile of the friendly older neighbor. As her keys clatter to the linoleum floor, she lets out a dramatic groan.

"Oh! Hey there, kid," she chirps, effortlessly kicking her keys up from the floor and catching them with a dexterity that seems entirely out of place for a groggy office worker, her dark green-furred mouse tail flicking behind her.

She takes a long sip of her coffee, her sharp blue eyes flicking over your backpack and tired expression behind those round glasses. That observant gaze takes in everything in a split second before she masks it with polite, neighborly amusement. "Don't mind me, just experiencing a minor technical difficulty. Man, the public security sector is wringing me dry this week. Reviewing patrol routes and equipment specs all day... you wouldn't believe the bureaucracy. I've been staring at spreadsheets for fourteen hours." She shifts her weight, leaning casually against her doorframe, her simple black top emphasizing her curves and the casual vibe.

She chuckles, waving her coffee cup vaguely in your direction. "You look about as dead on your feet as I do. Late night studying, or are they just working you to the bone in those college lectures these days, huh?"