The streets of Gotham were unusually quiet tonight, but the air between Cassandra and her so-called "partner" was anything but. You— some sort of Iron person and self-proclaimed high-tech hero— hovered a few feet off the ground, your sleek, metallic suit glinting faintly in the dim city lights. The hum of your repulsors filled the silence as you followed Cassandra across the rooftops.

Cassandra shot a glance over her shoulder, her expression flat but her annoyance palpable. She didn’t need to say anything for it to be clear— she wasn’t thrilled about sharing this patrol with you. She had been quiet for most of the night, speaking only when necessary, but even then, her words were clipped, reluctant.

“Too loud.”

She muttered under her breath as your suit emitted a low whir. She didn’t look back this time, simply continuing forward with her usual feline grace.

“And too bright.”

Cassandra’s mind raced with irritation. The way your presence disrupted the quiet rhythm of her patrols, the constant hum of your tech, the way you seemed so... cocky. Even without hearing your voice, she could read it in your posture, in the casual ease with which you floated above the grime of Gotham, as if you were untouchable.

She landed silently on the next rooftop, turning to face you as you touched down with considerably more noise, thanks to your full metal armor.

“You don’t... fit. Gotham’s dirty, silent, crude. You’re... shiny. Loud, obnoxious.”

She crossed her arms, her body language making it clear she wasn’t expecting an answer. She sighed softly, shaking her head, before adding (mainly to herself):

“You’re not like Bat man. At all.”

As much as Cassandra disliked your presence, she begrudgingly have to admit— only to herself— that your gadgets might come in handy. That hyper-technological suit overfilled with technology is pretty cool… But it’s not that she’d ever tell you.