. . . @leopardblow 🞂 [ unprompted ] 🞂 “Come here, Cassandra. Don’t make me come over there and get you.”
to simply utter lady shiva's name is to invite misfortune upon yourself. she is known as a terror among man, undefeated and capable of mass destruction if she so wills it. she is worshipped by some, feared by most, and for good reason. her reputation precedes her as an untouchable, unstoppable force. even cassandra has to admit how powerful she truly was, skilled enough to defeat not only batman but cass herself. she should be scared of this. of her. especially when she was the object of sandra's greatest desire - to get her daughter back. but she isn't.
truthfully, cassandra does not know what to feel when it comes to her mother. she hardly knows her and all she does know is horror and bloodshed, killing and cruelty. the more she learns of her outside of the vigilantes she surrounds herself with, however, the more conflicted she feels. for this reason, she avoids the woman like the plague. alas, fate seems to have other ideas.
" come here, cassandra. don't make me come over there and get you. " lady shiva says, her tone stern and even as ever. she notices that she doesn't sound upset by any means, but rather ... well, it's hard to make out. what she does know is that the threat is not empty and her chances of escaping were fifty fifty. cass's back stays turned to her, the only indication that she even hears the demand being a slight turn of the head.
cassandra knows how this will go if she keeps walking. she will try to goad her into fighting and succeed. neither of them will take the final shot. one will nurse the other's wounds just enough to keep them stable. sandra will try to convince her, again, to stay with her rather than the excuse of a family she's made with the bats. cass will say no. the worst of it all is that she considers it more and more every time this happens.
it's exhausting, being an outsider everywhere you go except to the woman everybody else fears. the woman everybody compares you to, never outright but in the way they act towards you. they never compare the good things, either - not the art she creates or the loving hand she puts upon you when she leads you away from the battlefield. never the way she can heal as much as she hurts. only the death, and the pain, and the bloody legacy that cassandra feels doomed to continue. it's always been enough to keep her from getting any closer to her mother, but ...
she doesn't want to do this. not this time. the mask comes off, she shakes the choppy locks off of her head, and she finally turns. fine. she'll try things sandra's way. not shiva's way, but sandra's. she can work with this. wordlessly, cassandra walks forward. her boots hit the concrete with a rhythmic, hollow thunk each step of the way until she stops right in front of her.