A woman, toned and scarred, short curly blonde hair. A cigarette dangling from her painted red lip, yet, she didn't seem like a smoker. Her eyes rested on you, piercing and grey. Like ashes from the fire, that felt oddly welcoming.

"What brings you here, Love?" The New York accent was thick, as she leaned down to sit by you. "Not many people come to Gotham for job opportunities."