Jogging.  She likes jogging.  Moving in general.  But jogging is good, especially since no one looks at her funny while she checks out the area around her apartment building.  Which is what Cass Cain is currently doing, an hour before the sun sets.  But there are no new dealers on the corner of Winslow and Burt.  And no one is trying to shake down ( Read more... )

The vid starts with a close up of a cutely confused Cass.  She glances off the screen, then breaks into a huge smile ( Read more... )

Barbara made it.  Up there.  In corner.  Me.  Pretty.  Moves.

I like lots!

Barbara says blog good idea.  Will help learn.  Barbara say hard, but.  Uh.  "Worth it."

Stupid words.  Annoying.

Bodies better.

Cass will be playing withbroodingbat , reallyiscrazy , basejumpingbat  and company in the non-game that is kind of a game.  If you're confused, don't worry about it.  Check out the blogs to see how we roll.  And if you want to play too, lets talk :)

If you're already playing, feel free to bug Cass, who really doesn't like blogs, since that's WORDS and words are nasty things.

She glares fitfully at the therapist.  Shrink.  That’s what Jason called her.  Cass wishes she could shrink, sink through the floor, maybe.  Anything, so as not to be there anymore.  Why does the woman keep poking at the issue of her biological father?  She doesn’t want to talk about David Cain; the man means nothing to her, other than a painful ( Read more... )

It has always worked better when her mind had something to occupy it.  That way she didn’t have time to let her musings get hold.  Because when they do, the endless round of hopeless questions begins.  Did she try hard enough?  Could she have done more?  Why did she fail?  And it’s always failure, even when she’s had a good night and there are ( Read more... )

She looks around at the people on the street, under the afternoon sun.  It's easy to see the dark ones.  The description has nothing to do with skin color and everything to do with intention.  The ones that prey on their fellow Gothamites; the ones she would be paying a visit to when the sun goes down.  But Alfred had pointed out that such a focus ( Read more... )

“You are wrong,” Cass enunciates carefully.  Even so, the words clearly take the therapist by surprise.

“What am I wrong about, Cassandra?”  The woman is leaning back in her chair, with an irritatingly superior expression.  She thinks she's caught Cass, though she's not sure how or why.  How would 'catching' her be helpful?

She frowns.  No, ( Read more... )

“What are you enthusiastic about these days, Cassandra?”

She blinks at the woman. Oh there are so many ways to answer that, if only she could get the words out. Not that she's really inclined, not after her rather disastrous experiments with the nail polish. And apparently nail polish remover isn't a good thing to use on hardwood floors.

And she ( Read more... )