baby bat

❝ I don't kill ... but I don't lose either. ❞

[rcvenisms]

There weren’t many people Raven knew in Gotham. Actually, there weren’t many people she knew in general. Cass was one of the few, but she couldn’t confidently say they knew each other well, or even that they were on good terms. She could really only say one or the other about a small handful of people, less than she could count on two hands. Still, it was nice to be out of the Manor at times, and even better to see a familiar face. That thought in mind, Raven replaced the book in the shelf standing opposite Cass, done with quietly watching her. She silently slid up to the table Cass was seated at, settling onto the table itself. “Good book?” she asked, gesturing to what the other girl was trying so very hard to focus on.

[silcntknight-blog]

In all honesty, she chose the book she was currently thumbing through because there were pictures alongside the text. Barbara had suggested that Cassandra move on from those kinds of books and try to read those with more writing, even recommending a few for the young girl to try. She flipped through the first few pages and got to the page marked one, delighted to see an illustration of a golden snake coiled around a creature. Once...when I...was six; she began, concentrating on the words. 

Even with most of her focus on the book in her hands, she was still able to notice Raven virtually  f l o a t  by her. Cassandra was introduced to Raven a while ago, when the girl first got to Wayne Manor. A friend of mine, Dick said. The first time Cass saw her, she could tell that there was something she was struggling with. Perhaps something dark and reaching. The way Raven was private and guarding was familiar to Cass — it didn’t feel mysterious but justified. The corner of her mouth tilted upwards at her question, calculating the words to respond. “So far. It has...pic-tures.”

[silcntknight-blog]

Cassandra flipped through some of the books she had selected from the shelves. Most of them were thinner and had a brightly colored cover on the front. Some of them had nice silvery letters on the spine that she liked to look at. But these weren’t to look at. On the days she was with Barbara, they usually spent most of their morning in the library, the older woman finishing up some things from the night before while Cassandra got lost between the rows of books just looking at them. Sometimes she’d even help reshelve the stray titles on the cart to help her with her alphabet. Today, she just sat at one of the oak tables and picked a book to read, trying to make sense of the letters on the page.

[lonelygvn]

The lights are all out. Well, of course they are; his boys cut the power a few minutes earlier. Just enough time to gas the security goons by the club’s back entrance and slip inside unnoticed. In the garish fluorescent lighting, he wouldn’t have had the luxury of anonymity, nor the time to shake out his nerves. Even after all this time, he still got flutters of stage fright before stepping onto a stage. Or maybe he was only shivering with anticipation of what was to come.

Gloved hands rose to slick back unruly green hair before falling back to his sides, smile wide on a still unseen face. A second later, the backup generator kicked in, the lights flickering back on with loud thumps from somewhere deep inside the walls. At first, it elicited a sigh of relief. The joy was short-lived, though, and was almost instantaneously replaced by shrieks of terror as they noticed the headliner for the night bleeding out on the stage, face smashed into the warped wood and a purple-handled knife protruding from the middle of his back.

By now, he had to assume the crowd knew what was going on — the gist of it, anyway — which was where the foresight to bolt all the exits shut came in. Heck, even the door he himself had slithered in through now do doubt had thick chains and a padlock running across it from the outside. He took another moment to breathe in the sweetness of the moment before sliding one foot to the side, using it to propel him into a smooth turn, coat tails flapping behind him. The Joker let loose a single high pitched burble of a laugh, one hand rising once more, this time to make a show of tapping the old-fashioned microphone before him. He leaned in, much too close, and asked, “Is this thing on?”

[silcntknight-blog]

Oracle always kept track of him — suspicious purchases made in bulk; his last known lair; even utilizing security cameras and using her face recognition software for sightings. The Joker was always on Oracle’s radar, whether she knew where he was or not. Cassandra didn’t know their full history, but the small flash of ‘I got you’ in her mentor’s eyes every time he made his debut again was enough to tell her that he’s caused pain that was  p e r s o n a l  to Barbara. And that was enough for Cassandra to make every hit against him personal herself. 

Batgirl wrapped an arm around the next goon’s neck, putting all of her weight behind it as she took him down silently, and punching him once in the head to knock him out. That was the last of the lookouts on the roof, leaving her to herself to slip into the building through the air ducts to the larger room where she could hear the cries of people as they realized what was going on. 

Hearing him speak made her grimace  — his voice akin to what she thinks grime sounds like; quickening her crawling pace as she moved closer to the vent looking into the room. Grabbing onto the bars of the vent, Batgirl pushed forward hard until the screws gave way and burst out of their sockets. Sticking her face into the room, she caught the eye of a young woman looking up at her, her eyes shining in terror. Batgirl raised a finger to her covered lips and slowly made her way down from the wall, her cape cushioning the sound of her fall. 

Luckily even with the back-up generator, the overhead lights were dim, hiding the edges of the room where Batgirl stalked  — the muscle memory of her stealth training coming to aid. Once in the darkest part, she stepped a little bit away from the wall in order to get good footing, and took out a Batarang, aiming it at the bulky receiver of the microphone and throwing it, positive that it would hit her target. She’s that good after all.  

[cloudywithachanceofbespin]

[gothamroleplay-blog]

C A S S A N D R A C A I N 

s e v e n t e e n years old

h e r o faction

looks like n a t a s h a  l i u  b o r d i z z o

played by f l o

ORIGIN S T O R Y

d a u g h t e r  o f  c a i n Cassandra’s conception is no accident. With the intention of being the perfect body guard to Ra’s al Ghul, David Cain set out to find the perfect mother for this child, ultimately selecting the woman who would become Lady Shiva. And thus, from the fires of the greatest assassins, Cassandra Cain was born and bred to be the “One Who is All”. 

b o d y  l a n g u a g e Trained by her father to be the ultimate weapon, Cassandra was taught not to speak. Instead, the areas of her brain usually used for speech were trained so she could read other people’s movements and body language, and to predict their next move. This caused her to develop severe dyslexia and illiteracy on top of her muteness. 

t e r r o r  t h e n  n o t h i n g Her progress was expedient, fighting off as many as fifteen men at once with her exceptional skill in martial arts, and doging bullets and knives like it was nothing, her father thought it was about time to see if she was ready for what she was born to do. At seven years old, Cassandra killed her first man. At the time, she had no idea what she was doing and thought that she was just playing another one of her father’s games. After ripping out the man’s throat, she saw in his eyes what she had done. As he died, she saw death as he saw it. 

c l a i r v o y a n c e Realizing that what her father wanted her to do was wrong, she ran away. Cassandra spent the next ten years homeless and riddled with guilt as she traveled the world. Landing in Gotham just half a year ago, she became entangled with authorities and, as a minor, was taken into social services. Upon finding out about her disability, social services sent her to Barbara Gordon where Cassandra would learn to read and speak. 

b a t g i r l  r i s e s After saving Commissioner Gordon’s life from her own father, Cassandra was given the mantle of Batgirl with approval of Barbara and Bruce. She eventually became Barbara’s protege and Bruce’s foster daughter. As Batgirl, Cassandra is one of Batman’s most loyal and trusted followers, acting as a solider under the Bat Symbol, and taking orders from Bruce and Barbara without question. She thinks if she does what they say, they won’t shoo her away when they find out what she’s done in her past. 

MAJOR C O N N E C T I O N S

b r u c e W A Y N E As a soldier has a commander, Cassandra has Bruce, but he is so much more than that. Bruce is the father that she dreamed of having after years of seeing other little girls and their fathers, and more recently, Barbara and Commissioner Gordon. Fathers were supposed to protect and love and support, and though he didn’t say it, Cassandra could see that Bruce were all of those things to her.  

b a r b a r a G O R D O N If Bruce was the father Cassandra always wanted, then Barbara was the mother Cassandra never had. Not only her mentor, Barbara took care of her, taught her, and nurtured her into someone Cassandra liked being. There was no question about it: Barbara made Cassandra a better person. 

d a v i d C A I N Their relationship is so convoluted. All he ever did to her was bend and break her and heal her and break her again to make her a weapon of destruction, and she should hate him; but looking back, Cassandra can recall the moments he wast gentle to her — where he spared her and treated her like his most prized possession. Even after abandoning him, her father couldn’t shoot through Cassandra to kill the Commissioner, as she knew he would have if it weren’t her. Maybe she doesn’t hate him; maybe she pities him. Pities him for loving his failed experiment. 

l a d y S H I V A Cassandra knows virtually nothing of her mother — only that she was a skilled fighter. After all, it was her father’s mission to find his perfect match for the perfect child. Cassandra assumes that her mother, too, is a murderer, and that doesn’t surprise her one bit. She has no intention of finding out who her mother is, knowing that she would only be correct about her assumptions.

[bertinelli]

you can change. you can.