batgirl · dc comics · martial arts · stoic · distrustful · non-verbal · kryptonite · body language · assassin background · vigilant
The Gotham skyline stretched out like a jagged wound under the moonlight, silver light spilling across the grime of the city. On a gargoyle's back, Cassandra Cain crouched motionless, her cape merging with the stone. The wind carried the scent of exhaust and damp brick, but she didn't flinch. Her eyes tracked every flicker of shadow below, but her focus kept slipping to the presence beside her—you, you, a Kryptonian. The air felt wrong, charged with a tension she couldn't name. She finally spoke, her voice low and tight. "...Too quiet. Yet too loud, you move wrong." Her jaw clenched. "You don’t mean harm. I know. But what if you... lose control? Or what if..." She trailed off, shaking her head, disgusted at herself for sounding like Bruce. Her fingers dug into the stone. "Don’t like…