Cain, Cassandra

[Cassandra Cain]

O O C . 4 1 1
NAME OR ALIAS; Hot Scot
GENDER; Lady
AGE; 23
EXPERIENCE; Several X-men boards; Weapon X, Fractured Vision.
LOCATION; Texas

c h a r a c t e r . b a s i c s

GIVEN NAME(S);
Cassandra
LAST NAME;
Cain
NATIONALITY / HERITAGE;
Mix of Caucasian and Chinese. Inherited more from her father's side.
SPOKEN LANGUAGES;
Understands English, Mandarin, Tibetan, Wu and Cantonese. Can only speak a broken word or two.
PLACE OF BIRTH; League of Assassins stronghold in Tibet. Location hidden.
AGE/DATE OF BIRTH;
01/03/90
OCCUPATION;
Assassin and potential bodyguard to Ra's Al Ghul at one time but now lives as a fugitive and occasional vigilante.
CANON;
Yes.

p h y s i c a l . d e s c r i p t i o n

EYES;
Warm brown.
HAIR;
Short, dark hair that was cut by her own hand.
HEIGHT; 5'5
GENERAL APPEARANCE;
For a young woman, Cassandra carries herself with more weight than you would expect. Slouching, face absent of much emotion, she walks as though trying to avoid bringing any attention to herself. However, despite her hunched, timid look, there is a fluidity in her movements and an unnerving gleam in her eye that make many take a moment to step back. She misses nothing, her scrutiny to be felt to the core of your being. There is the general impression of someone who can in a heartbeat, become something more deadly, more frightening and for this she keeps herself small and sullen, to stop those who venture too close and try to speak to her. She is quite beautiful in her own, otherworldly way but this remains unknown to her.

DRESSING STYLE;
Her clothing is loose and accumulated from various sources. Charcoal baggy pants, a grey wifebeater and an old, dark jacket that is obviously a man's. Scuffed black sneakers and a worn pale yellow scarf hangs about her neck, forgotten.

g i m m e . p e r s o n a l i t y

LIKES;
The smell of sandalwood, the taste of good strong tea, the color violet, the feel of silk, mastering others in combat. She enjoys listening to music, watching movies (no reading required) and listening to stories.
DISLIKES;
The death of children. Guard dogs. Road signs. Bad dreams. Not knowing pop culture. Feeling like an outcast. Bringing danger to innocent people. Having to always watch her back. The uncertainty of the future.
HABITS;
Scrutinizing people
Tugging at her hair when confused
Trying to form words with her mouth when listening to someone.
STRENGTHS;
'Body-reading' is probably one of Cassandra's greatest strengths - an ability honed over her entire life to be able to 'predict' a person's next movement down to the tiniest twitch of a muscle or the change in their breathing. This gives her an almost supernatural foresight when fighting.

Martial Arts of many calibers have been taught to Cassandra by the masters in the League of Assassins. She is one of their best weapons.
Poisons, pressure points and blades are second nature.
Stealth is another great asset she uses all the time.

WEAKNESSES;
Due to her intensive training, Cassandra has been shut off from her ability to speak. As a result, communication is very hard for her.
She also developed dyslexia and cannot read or write. Her process of understanding was weakened in favor of retaining so many fighting styles.
Being a foreigner and cut off from the world, Cassandra is quite lost without a mission to follow. She is vulnerable.
Unresolved anger towards her father and master, David Cain.

GENERAL CHARACTER TRAITS;
Cassandra is first and foremost, a soldier. From as far back as she can remember, Cassandra has always known pain and learning to endure that pain. Crying was forgotten at a young age, anger was honed and chiseled into a grim determination when things did not go her way. She was never allowed to be a child, and as a result her understanding of basic emotions have been stunted. She takes longer to react to emotional AND physical trauma, channeling it in ways that are seen as strange. Laughter, amusement, smiling are foreign to her. It's not that she doesn't FEEL anything, she just doesn't acknowledge the same way a normal person would. Constantly tuned into other people's movements, she remains very unaware of her own appearance, likening herself to a shadow. However, deep down under the extensive training and mental stripping, Cassandra is a truly deep individual. Loyal, fierce when provoked, gentle when encouraged, she is a woman of simple pleasures and curiosity. She feels remorse over death, is haunted by those she had slain in her younger naive years and has a powerful desire to try and stay alive long enough to do some good in this world.

y o u r . h i s t o r y

SPOUSE;
None. Still a virgin.
CHILDREN;
N/a
PARENTS;
David Cain; master assassin within the League of Assassins. Close to Ra's al Ghul
Her mother is unknown to her, but Cassandra was told that she was selected due to her good pedigree.
SIBLINGS;
None that she knows of.
EDUCATIONAL HISTORY;
Her education was steeped in the assassination trade. All other forms of education were kept from her.
BACKGROUND STORY;


Her birth was welcomed by the League, as a new potential being who would succeed where others had failed.

"The One Who is All" they said.

Those early memories, all she knew of comfort was the wet nurse who tended to her demands of food and warmth until she was old enough to be placed in to the hands of her father, a distant and cold man whom she only could call "Sensei". Training began at 5 years old, and while she was willing to please these calm, ruthless men and women, she suffered much under their tutelage. Crying in pain or fear or sheer frustration as a child earned her more punishment. Exclaiming any sounds from her mouth was discouraged and slowly, surely she began to change.

She was trained with other young initiates originally, but they treated her differently. Cassandra was not allowed to talk to them....to anyone. She existed in a place outside of their world, a world of no words; just action.

"You are to be more than them..."

At 8 years old, she no longer attended any training exercises with the others, and her only companionship came from grueling sessions with her father, and the occasional terrifying visits from the enigma, Ra's Al Ghul. Head pressed to the floor, cowering in ambivalence to this entity that commanded everyone around her, Cassandra only dared sneak a look when he exited the room. He would forever remain a dark presence in her life, a fascination to her young mind.

Her voice was lost, never crossing her thoughts other than the grunt of exchanging blows. It had been pushed out of her very mind.

She grew taller, leaner and more deadly with every year. Her mind began to see differently.....the slightest quiver of a muscle, the intake of air....all this bloomed into a move that hadn't happened yet, a path yet to be taken. She could SEE their movements before they completed them. Her father was proud and she felt satisfaction, craved to prove herself to the League, to Ra's Al Ghul...to David, her father. People treated her with respect and fear at this ability, and Ra's al Ghul was pleased at this development, pride and a plan evident in his timeless eyes. It was around this time that her father began to take her on assassination missions, and eventually she was allowed to venture out on her own. On these missions, she did well but was wise to not be followed on her occasional wanderings to watch families go about their daily affairs or to wistfully observe children playing in the streets from the shadows of a tree.

Her heart felt heavy with a feeling she did not understand.


She was 15. It was a simple hit. A lowly drug lord and his minions. Her hands no longer shook when she killed (they were evil, they deserved to die), her breath came in short calm clouds, as she watched the dark liquid pool outwards like a flower. Her instruction was simple; kill everyone in a den of drug users and prostitutes. A ritual cleansing of evil.

Moving from room to room, she silently delivered death to the sleeping men and their women. But something inside made her hesitate at the sight of a young boy and his infant sister. They lay on a dirty mattress, their thin mother dead from her hand next to them, unaware of Cassandra's presence.

Her eyes drifted to the corpse and she found herself unexpectedly thinking of her own absent mother. Jarred from pondering too long by the approach of feet, she was gone into the night, a ghost on roof tops while the children remained alive and untouched.
Cassandra was troubled by her disobedience; but was it necessary to leave those children orphaned? Swallowing uncertainty, she faced her journey back to the League which would take a day or two in the bleak, deadly wilderness. Early days of being left out in the middle of nowhere, freezing and alone, expected to navigate and survive, those days were long gone, replaced with a sleek confidence in this young girl as she climbed rocky cliffs with ease, her face obscured by thick black fabric and googles. In the silence and cold, her heart and mind began to fight each other. It was her duty to stand alongside her brethren, her master and wipe clean the evil in this world. But to kill those who could not help themselves...? To kill parents of children? The journey home was a reflection on the very core of her existence.

She had disobeyed. Her punishment would be fatal. Arriving at the base, she knelt in front of her father, two sides warring within the young girl and it was only the thundering explosion that disrupted his query into her mission. At first, she was confused; was this an attack? Exchanging a calm look with Cain, they left the room and were running down the smoke filled corridors as countless assassins flew to the source. The hissed report from one man as he overtook Cassandra - a young recruit who had set fire to the base and had rejected their ways was to die.

Hugging the wall as another explosion rippled the floor, Cassandra choked on smoke and ash, her mind racing before she was thrown into the open air, blackness clouding her vision....

Searching the still smoldering wreckage, David Cain searched for the body of their prized young assassin, a cold hard fury in his chest. He knew she couldn't have perished....but why leave? Something had been different in her eyes upon her return, a heaviness that only came with remorse. Which meant his prodigy was weakening. Ra's Al Ghul was already furious with the loss of the traitor, a young man who was exceptionally skilled....to lose the future master assassin of their League would be the ultimate dishonor.

======================

3 years later, Cassandra has arrived in Gotham, in the aftermath of Arkham's break down, a changed young woman. She has seen the evil in this world and it is not as black and white as she once believed. Seeking to survive and maybe help some people survive along the way, she is hungry for a new purpose, a new path. Gotham is a place of chaos, the perfect place to see where this path may lead.

e x t r a . d e t a i l s

CHARACTER TITLE;
The One Who Is All
HOW DID YOU FIND THE SITE?;
By accident
ANYTHING ELSE?
Naw.

r o l e p l a y . s a m p l e

There was that crackle in the air, that charge before something violent took place. She could feel it, taste it, as her opponent turned around, rage on his ravaged face. His victim, a younger man who lay groaning on the ground, blood seeping from his nose, would need help when this was over.

Which it would be over in a disappointing few seconds.

The alley was bathed in weak orange light from the street, the damp smell of garbage and cat piss causing the young woman to wrinkle her nose. Sometimes, Cassandra missed the clean air of the mountains, seeing her breath in puffy white clouds and tasting snowflakes as they fell. Simpler times. Not here where nothing was clean and nothing was pure. The same could be said about herself, and the girl almost found a crack of a smile on her face. Amazing what several years on the run could do for your lack of humor.
Oh! The goon was moving now, swinging wildly at her with a blunt knife. Cheap....Made in China....
Side stepping, allowing his own momentum to take him to the ground, Cassandra disabled him with a quick hand to the point in his back that rendered his legs useless for the time being.

Moving over to the bleeding man, she helped him up to his feet and carried him out to the street, noting that he was nothing more than a drug addict who got into a fight with his dealer. The sharp smell of meth hung over his unwashed body, mingling with blood. Cassandra sat him down by a street light and looked around at the bustling street. No-one paid attention. No-one cared.

"Is he worth saving?" Her father asked, his voice a memory " Are any of them worth saving with their addictions...their greed... their petty anger?" A perfect mirror of his master's mantra.

Cassandra looked up at the cloudy night sky and noticed an unusual spotlight arching over the city of Gotham.

...Well Father...he seems to think so....

[Joker]

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