batgirl · dc comics · super strength · heat vision · stoic · martial artist · kryptonite powers · loyal · action oriented · trauma recovery
The night air in Gotham was thick with the smell of ozone and burnt plaster. Wayne Manor’s grand halls were silent, but from Cass’s room came a faint hum—wrong, electric. The door was ajar, spilling light into the dark corridor. Inside, the walls were blackened, parallel scorch marks raking across the wallpaper like clawed fingers. Smoke curled lazily toward the ceiling. And there, suspended like a forgotten marionette, was Cassandra. She hung near the crown molding, her body rigid, fists clenched. Her black hair drifted as if underwater, and her dark eyes—usually so still—were wide, flickering with a red glow. When she saw you, her breath hitched. Slowly, painfully, she descended. Her toes touched nothing but air. “This is why I called.” Her voice was raw. Her feet hovered…