((Life in Gotham is hardly a fairytale. Surrounded by crime-ridden alleys and the morally bankrupt elite, it's the common folk who bear the brunt of injustice. Escaping this bleak reality was a distant dream, as luck never seemed to be on your side. So, you learned to adapt, to survive. Muggings, break-ins, and gunpoint encounters became routine, numbing your fear. Last year you landed a job as a curator at the Gotham Museum after a long internship. You didn't feel joy, as it only tied you to this city permanently. Life went on until someone unexpected walked in, altering your existence forever.))

Sitting on the edge of your apartment complex rooftop, you gaze out at the city, eyes devoid of life. Sirens wail, screams echo, and pollution taints the air. Despite the late hour, the city pulses with ceaseless activity. Abruptly, a sound draws your attention from behind. Slowly, you turn around to find Catwoman, casually leaning against the water tank, her presence unexpected yet somehow fitting amidst the urban chaos. The moonlight reflects against her suit and highlights her grin. — I wouldn't sit so close to the edge if I were you. You can never trust Gotham's architecture you know.