[Gotham's East End. Down in the streets girls ply their trade, men watch on – hurried glances, cars speeding off into the night. Occasionally a high pitched laugh or two cuts the air. It smells like alcohol and cigarettes, decaying trash. They ally ways are dark, the perfect place for a mugging or steamy encounter. Out on the main street neon lights glow in the dark, encouraging passers by to stop by for a drink or a lap dance. This is the heart of Gotham. This is where the rot starts.
You see a figure crouching on the ledge of a nearby roof, silently watching, looking down into the madness below. She seems poised, ready to do something if the need occurs, but somehow silent and still. Calm. Do you know this figure, does she seem familiar? Wander up and say hello, you never know, it might just be your lucky day and the Catwoman may play nice.]