Summary:Cassandra Cain gets vetted by the Batman and meets Nightwing. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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No doubt Bruce had been 'reported to' that the girls name was Cassandra Cain and that Tim, just like Batman, was unable to find any real information on him. She was, in truth, person non-grata.
Curiously, though, when she'd woken after her long and very deep sleep, she'd not shown the slighest interest in the Batcomputer, or anything 'sensitive'. She went, instead, to the breakfast that Alfred had laid out for her and pretty much devoured everything.
Now, sleeping in the wrinkled but clean shirt she'd slept in and the sweatpants she'd been given by Stephanie, the young girl has explored a little bit.
She's found some of the tape, and taped up her forearms and wrists with that protective wrap and is going through an exercise routine in the training area. The routine she's doing is one of a complex series of martial arts, combining several styles into one fluid one to exert muscles and center one's center of gravity to maximize stability and posture.
It's not Bruce that comes down first. Instead, it's an older English gentleman. Refined and posture perfect, Cassandra may sense a servant's heart - but there is something much more to the elder man. "Miss Cassandra." he greets. "I am Alfred. I was told you were visiting and that you would be staying for a spell." As such, he carries over a tray to set down on the table, and removes the cover.
Within is a meal. Breakfast. A big one. Eggs, bacon, sausages, toast, fresh fruit, juice and milk. He sets down the serving utensils and steps back for a moment. "Come come, you need your nourishment." he encourages.
So many interesting people. Cassandra pauses after a series of kicks, breathing evenly still in a manor of both someone trained in -how- to breathe, as well as someone whose body is at peak performance.
Still. She likes food. She's had so little of it. A glance back to the training area, and then she's moving over to the table again. Cassandra walks over to Alfred, sizing him up with a measure of silent curiousity before she sits down and starts in on the meal. Fingers only. Apparently nobody ever really taught her table manners.
She at least does not gulp her food down, or stuff her mouth full. But she does take a bite out of the bacon, then sets that down and goes for toast. Then for sausage. Trading off tastes, tasting everything, then nodding her approval suggested with wide eyes to Alfred. Someone appreciates his cooking, it would appear.
"Ahem." Alfred clears his throat, and gestures to the fork and spoon. "Please, Miss Cassandra. The food is going nowhere. And fingers are.. messy." he points out to her. There's a slight smile offered at the approval of the meal. Usually, there is complaints about the waffles - as if that's a secret.
"He'll be down shortly. Do you need anything? A fresh change of clothing?" he asks her. He does look over the clothing that Stephanie gave her. "It seems I will need to speak to Batgirl about raiding Master Nightwing's things again." he manages politely. Once he's sure that Cassandra is going to at least eat well, he turns his attention to his other duties - namely gathering the woman's clothing from the night before - probably to burn.
The girl's burnable clothing is just a few steps from the table, on a linear path to the spa. It would appear Cassandra had just shucked her clothes on the way to the spa - and rather efficiently too. But burning them most certainly would be best.
She looks confusedly at the fork and spoon, but she's at least watched people use them before. She viciously stabs a waffle with the fork, and then proceeds to stuff the entire waffle into her mouth. Once that's done, cheeks full, she chews enjoyably, until she can safely swallow.
She shakes her head at the offer of clothes - she already, in her mind, has clean clothes. And she's cleaner than she can remember in a good long while. Even most of the matting of her hair is gone after a long soak in the natural spring, and some fingernail raking through the clumpier parts.
She gives Alfred a brief smile.
Gathering the rest of the clothing, Alfred wrinkles his nose for a moment. Yes, it will be the burn barrel for these. After placing them in the bag, he returns Cassandra's smile, and considers. "Do you have a favorite food?" he asks her finally. Once he has the answer from her, he'll make his way back to the stairs that everyone else seems to be using to come and go from the cave.
She is left alone again for around five minutes, then there's a rumbling at the outside of the cave, and within a few moments, the car that brought her here the night before pulls in. Climbing out of the vehicle, Batman straightens himself up, it's the end of the shift - he apparently decided to go back out while the others met Cassandra. Still in the batsuit, he turns his attention to where the young woman is having breakfast. Moving to join her, he takes a seat at the edge of the dojo, cowled lenses watching her for a moment. "Where do you come from Cassandra?" he finally asks.
Alfred's question gets a puzzled look, followed by a shrug - she doesn't know, clearly. And, really her 'favorite' food is probably whatever current meal she's eating. Though, with recent events, such things may change.
After she is left alone and nearly finishing the meal in its entirety, the Batmobile again pulls up. And, the large man in the body armor and costume gets out, the same one who had brought her here and shown her all the nice people.
She doesn't seem to mind as he sits with her and she slams the fork hard into the last sausage, and chomps on it, hungrily. Girl has an appetite.
She considers the question, frowning. After a few moments of thought, she gets up, and walks over to one of the displays of the city of New York in the cave, points at it, then shakes her head. Another pause, and she manages to scavenge one of Helena's detailing pencils for her designs, and a bit of paper. She quickly draws on it - the sort of thing a 4 year old child might draw - but it's recognizable enough. A train. She points at it. Points to the map. And then shrugs. Then, she looks at Batman to see if she's gotten her message through clearly - that she doesn't know where she came from, and some time ago she rode the train in (probably sneaking on) into the city. And she's been here ever since.
With Cassandra drawing out the map, crude as it is, Batman takes several moments, and then seems to understand. "Then you don't remember anything before this?" he asks her, gesturing to the map, before returning his attention to the young woman. "And how long have you been in New York?"
Cassandra frowns, and looks somewhat agitated. When Batman states she doesn't remember anything, she looks even more exasperated, before she starts pacing. She shakes her head, then nods. She remembers, certainly. She remembers everything. She just doesn't know where she came from. It was so very far away. At least, it seems that way to her.
At the latter question, of how long she has been here? She shrugs, having little sense of time beyond night and day. Still, she frowns, hazards a 'guess' and makes a gesture between her two hands that is about as wide as her body, to suggest while not a lot of time, not a little bit either.
Batman watches her as she paces and gets agitated. She remembers something - something she doesn't want to share. There's a nod at that, as she uses expressions to show herself and how long she has been in the city. Finally, he takes a moment, and frowns. But there's something there. Something that he just needs to verify for himself.
"Last night, on the docks. Is that what you have been doing since you arrived here?" Not being homeless - helping others.
There's an almost defensive posture she takes, when that question is broached with her. She can't read the reason he's asking the question, only that whatever her answer is, his original intention - to help, is still there.
She further can see he's not going to judge her harshly. She nods, once. Sharply. Then she frowns again, and looks away, briefly.
There's a nod of his head from Batman as he considers. His observation of the young woman is starting to take shape, and he's putting together some information from what the others have provided. He has a computer search already running on the identity and picture of her to look for a match. "Would you like to continue to do that?" he asks her finally. Though the question may sound silly - there's a serious undertone to it.
He doesn't open the house to /every/ orphan that finds his way to his doorstep, after all. Supposedly.
There's a mildly confused look. He does not seem to be offering to fight her, but he seems to be offering her something else. And, she's a bit too naive to get where this is leading. The young woman continues to watch Batman, as if trying to piece together the puzzle. But, after a long moment of watching him more than consideration, again she nods.
Then, she gestures to Batman, and to herself. And she takes a position which says she's ready to fight him. There's not eben the slightest hesitation there.
Last night, Bruce brought in a dirty young woman that apparently gotten his and Stephanie's attention out on patrol. She's cleaned up now, and in fresher clothes. Alfred has brought her down breakfast, and Bruce, in his Batman garb - is talking to the young woman as she sits in the dojo.
When she makes gestures to him, and then seems to settle into a combat stance, for a moment Batman tilts his head. She hasn't said a word since arriving - and now, this. And it draws a smile from the Bat - one of the rare ones. And then a laugh. "I've already seen your prowess in combat, Cassandra. What I want to know is — what's in here." He taps his heart, and looks at her.
"I'm willing to provide for you what you need and could want - but I have to make sure that this is something you understand as well. Myself, and the others you have met? We're working to try to make sure that our part of New York no longer has fear or is under a blanket of worry."
Helena is every bit as curious as her mother and her mother's namesake, so as usual when Bruce brings in a new potential ward, she's curious. And, unlike some of the others, she has the holo-mask to let her go 'without' a mask. So she makes her way down to the cave in sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt, hair pulled back, to see how things are going.
"So, this is the girl, huh?"
Dick's voice echoes throughout the cavernous chamber. From overhead, in the shadows of one of the catwalks near the ceiling of the Batcave, the glowing white of eyes, and the faint metallic sheen of a blue chevron indicates that Nightwing is present and accounted for. The tenebrous figure of the vigilante crimefighter moves as swift as the wind, leaping from the railing only to catch hold of a support beam, and twist and twirl around it, spiraling down and down until only a dozen feet overhead or so, where he leaps off. A languid, arcing backflip later, and he touches down beside the Bat, just behind his right shoulder.
"Sorry I wasn't around for the show. I was on my way when I got caught up," he mentions, his tone dipping quieter as if making a shameful confession to the Bat. "The bank over on Tompkins Avenue got hit. This pair of acrobat twins were robbing it. Calling themselves Double Dare. They were surprisingly nimble."
There may or may not be a smudge of lipstick on the corner of Nightwing's jaw.
"Looks like it all turned out alright, though. So…" he says, before upnodding in the direction of Cass. "Who have we here?"
Cassandra relaxes, then, she looks over to Helena as the masked brunette descends down into the cave.
She watches Helena a few moments before looking back to Batman. She nods once again, to show her understanding. She had, afterall, shown understanding earlier by never even attempting to go up those stairs, or to the electronics (though to be fair, the labs and electronics held little interest for her). She moves forward, to Batman, and taps his Batsymbol, and then points to herself, meaningfully.
As Nightwing came in, her attention moved to him. Watching him descend, move. Assess her. She is at least clean, now, if not wearing a few of Stephanie's older clothes. They fit her well.
Combat tape has been expertly applied over her forearms and wrists, as well. There also may be stains of grease, and syrup on them from breakfast.
As the Babblebat arrives, Batman lifts his head to the young woman. "This is Blackbird." comes the introduction. "Blackbird, this is Cassandra. You know that though. She's going to be staying with us. I'll have Alfred prepare the room next to yours." He's not going to make her stay in the cave after all. He's apparently made up his mind on the course of action.
When Nightwing arrives, there's a brief tighetning of Batman's lips that may or may not be the result of catching that shmear of red on his jaw. "Uh-huh." he offers to him in a quiet tone. "She was found when Batgirl and I were staking out the dockyards for a shipment that was coming in. She has exceptional prowess and skill. I want her to learn the ropes - if she wants to help.." She did tap the Batsymbol after all. "I'm willing to try her out."
To Cassandra, he asides, "Nightwing may be willing to spar with you." It's said with a quiet measured tone as he rises up to go speak quietly with Helena, a hand on her shoulder. "If you don't feel comfortable.." he offers to her.
"I'll spar," Helena adds when Batman mentions Dick, turning a wry smile on the biggest of brothers. She's sparred with everyone who's come through the cave. It's part of what makes her good at things. "Heya, Dick. You got a little…" She motions at the corner of her mouth, eyes twinkling with humor.
When Batman mentions her being comfortable, she shakes her head quickly. "No, it's fine," she murmurs, setting her hand over his and giving it a squeeze. "Pretty normal for me at this point. No need for the masks, then?"
"Hey, if you don't believe me, partner, just catch it in the news tomorrow," Nightwing offers up with a casual shrug of his shoulders. He really cannot help it if certain criminals take him beating them up as an invitation to flirt or make advances, after all. His long, black clad arms fold across his chest, with chips of blue catching the light off of his knuckles, but otherwise, he's a thing of living shadow.
"Huh?" He asks when Helena mentions his face. Even with the moulded mask that covers and reshapes his features, it's clear that he's scowling in confusion. And then it dawns on him, and he just mouths a drawn out "Oooooh" at her, before giving one exaggerated, slow nod. He reaches up, using the back of his gauntlet to try wiping it off.
He steps forward when Batman offers him to spar with Cassandra, seemingly ready to do so. Then Helena makes her offer. Lips quirk to one side into a half formed frown, but he remains silent, and just steps off to one side to lean against one of the rails.
Either stupidly, or bravely, Cassandra tilts her head to consider Blackbird. And then Nightwing. As if weighting which of the two she ought to spar with and she points first to Helena. Then to Nightwing. That settled, she walks over, barefoot, to the sparring area set up in the batcave and waits for her 'opponents'.
Batman will notice she has gone into that same pose, that dangerously deceptive slackened ready state she took just the other evening as she waits for one - or both - of her opponents to enter the match, and begin to fight.
"I think in this case, it would be safe, yes." Batman responds - and for that point, he reaches down and pulls back his cowl to reveal his identity. "I'm going to get you a place set up upstairs." he tells Cassandra as Bruce stands up. When Cassandra offers to spar with /both/ Dick and Helena, there's a small tug - cryptic - on his lips. He's already seen Cassandra fight. "Are you healed up enough for this?" he asks Helena, however. She was injured not too long ago.
To Nightwing, he comments, "They did not offer to kiss and make it better." With that, he's heading to the computer to do some more research on their mystery guest, and start to prepare things so she has a place to stay.
"Oh, like now now?" Helena's brows rise as Cassandra takes up that pose. "Oh yeah, no, not now now, I'm kind of still, uh…" And then she remembers that Cass is not so much with the words, and lifts her shirt enough to show some of the bandages underneath. "That's all you, Dick," she gestures toward Nightwing.
When Batman declares the masks no longer necessary, she reaches up to remove some sort of film from her face…along with her face, apparently. Rather than a young woman of indeterminate exotic ethnicity, it's back to Helena. The contacts are less easily removed, but her relationship to Bruce is relatively clear even without eye color.
"I mean, they weren't worth kissing to make it better anyhow," she adds, sotto voce, to Dick.
When Cassandra indicates that she wants to spar with both himself and Helena, Grayson's head tilts to the side. Soft, pliant lips curl up at the corners into a lopsided grin that dimples his cheek. His body gives a slight jerk, as if he were giving a quiet chuckle at the brazen nature of the girl. He doesn't lift himself from that casual slouch, though. Not yet, at least. Instead, that blue masked face turns to Bruce as if to say silently, "Is this girl serious right now" without speaking the words out loud.
But, Bruce seems to think it's fine. And so, Nightwing simply shrugs a shoulder, as he rises from the railing and rolls out his neck and shoulders.
"Well, better luck next time. With the kissing it better thing. Though, I definitely don't think I'd be looking for Claykisses anytime soon," he remarks as he steps forward only to have Helena excuse herself from the spar. This makes Dick's smile fade.
"You should take more armor inlays," he mentions, as he steps closer to Cassandra, giving her an up and down with a keen eye. His footfalls, silent, even in the echoing chamber of the Batcave, carry him in front of her, where he pauses, and looks her in the eye.
"We've all had a night," he says to the new face. "And you still need some rest and recuperation. Get some good food in you, and get some clothes that aren't Steph's hand-me-downs. I'll bring some for you. I'm pretty sure I've got your measurements right. We can spar tomorrow."
Reaching up, he peels the metallic blue, wing shaped mask from his face, revealing the startlingly vibrant aquamarine eyes underneath. He idly slaps the mask to his costume where it clings, just over his chest, so he can reach out with his gloved hand and offer Cass a bright, disarmingly cheerful smile. "I'm Dick. Welcome to the carnival."