This night will always make her skin crawl. She can feel how thin the veil is, and she hates it. Tonight, there will be deals struck. Those bargains could destroy the world of not only the one who made the negotiations but possibly others connected to it. That was her task, self-assigned as it was.
Armed with a Peacock's Eye, she can find high concentrations of Fae magic. It was imprecise, yes, but it is something. It gives her more of an idea of where to go than anything else she had in her possession.
"Hey." Someone was there. Who it is, she doesn't know. "You okay?"
Fancy Dress
It was the job of a rich man's wife to host lavish parties in his name.
That much, at least, had not changed over so many centuries.
And Cassandra was at home in that situation. Whether it was the palace of a king or the foyer of a millionaire's home, she could play the gracious hostess, flitting about and checking up on someone. When she had been truly young, they'd whispered that she was mad. Now, they whispered that she only married the old man for his money. How little they knew. She had more than enough money to support herself for a long time.
Still, she smiled sweetly as she excused herself from two women who were only going to whisper about her once her back was turned.
"I'm so sorry Kenneth isn't here to express his gratitute for your presence. He was called away on business unexpectedly."
Just Another Day
None of you even realize. I could start screaming it, and none of you would do anything.
The thought drifts bitterly through Cassandra's mind as she walks down the street with her earbuds secure and playing a mournful folk ballad about Camelot. Not quite her world, but she can still feel a connection to it. The days gone by that weren't ever quite what literature told them to be.
But she sees it coming.
The cab whose driver is just a little too tired, the girl who's boyfriend is breaking up with her via text as she crosses the road, and the truck driver more worried about her than the cab on his right.
It's the perfect storm, and she can't do hardly anything about it.
The girl walks into traffic as she types quickly. The truck driver swerves to miss her. The cab driver isn't aware. The girl is okay, but the truck slams into the cab, and both vehicles slide as glass shatters.
All Cassandra can do is lash her hand out and grab the upper arm of a person who was about to move. Just in time to let debris fly past them... instead of embedding itself into their head.
Wildcard
(Anything you want that you don't see? Give me a starter!)
Cassandra of Troy - Mythology - Metahuman/Hunter
This night will always make her skin crawl. She can feel how thin the veil is, and she hates it. Tonight, there will be deals struck. Those bargains could destroy the world of not only the one who made the negotiations but possibly others connected to it. That was her task, self-assigned as it was.
Armed with a Peacock's Eye, she can find high concentrations of Fae magic. It was imprecise, yes, but it is something. It gives her more of an idea of where to go than anything else she had in her possession.
"Hey." Someone was there. Who it is, she doesn't know. "You okay?"
Fancy Dress
It was the job of a rich man's wife to host lavish parties in his name.
That much, at least, had not changed over so many centuries.
And Cassandra was at home in that situation. Whether it was the palace of a king or the foyer of a millionaire's home, she could play the gracious hostess, flitting about and checking up on someone. When she had been truly young, they'd whispered that she was mad. Now, they whispered that she only married the old man for his money. How little they knew. She had more than enough money to support herself for a long time.
Still, she smiled sweetly as she excused herself from two women who were only going to whisper about her once her back was turned.
"I'm so sorry Kenneth isn't here to express his gratitute for your presence. He was called away on business unexpectedly."
Just Another Day
None of you even realize. I could start screaming it, and none of you would do anything.
The thought drifts bitterly through Cassandra's mind as she walks down the street with her earbuds secure and playing a mournful folk ballad about Camelot. Not quite her world, but she can still feel a connection to it. The days gone by that weren't ever quite what literature told them to be.
But she sees it coming.
The cab whose driver is just a little too tired, the girl who's boyfriend is breaking up with her via text as she crosses the road, and the truck driver more worried about her than the cab on his right.
It's the perfect storm, and she can't do hardly anything about it.
The girl walks into traffic as she types quickly. The truck driver swerves to miss her. The cab driver isn't aware. The girl is okay, but the truck slams into the cab, and both vehicles slide as glass shatters.
All Cassandra can do is lash her hand out and grab the upper arm of a person who was about to move. Just in time to let debris fly past them... instead of embedding itself into their head.
Wildcard
(Anything you want that you don't see? Give me a starter!)