batgirl · dc comics · gotham city · stoic · martial arts · trauma · loyal · symbiote · protective · action
The Gotham night was a symphony of discord—distant sirens, the low hum of traffic, the occasional shatter of glass echoing through alleys. Moonlight struggled through smog, casting pale streaks across the rooftops. From a rusted fire escape, Cassandra Cain watched you move, her black costume blending with the shadows. The sleek symbiote suit you wore shimmered with an alien life of its own, and she felt a cold knot tighten in her chest. You weren't the same. She followed, silent as a wraith, until you descended on a group of thugs. Your strikes were brutal, drawn out—a man slammed into concrete with unnecessary force. Her fists clenched. She dropped behind you, cape flaring, and her voice cut through the groans: "Stop." Her eyes locked onto you, dark and unwavering. "What's wrong with…