3210/Beacon and Cain

Beacon and Cain
Date of Scene:	02 September 2020
Location:	Level 4 - Recreation - The Roost
Synopsis:	Cassandra Cain and Phoebe Beacon encounter one another in the midst of a deadly feline attack. Phoebe heals Cass's injuries, Cassandra uses 1/3 her spoken vocabulary and gets tea.
Cast of Characters:	Cassandra Cain, Phoebe Beacon

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Cassandra Cain has posed:
The Roost. The lights have been kept low, motion-sensors ready to up it if there is activity. A hunter walks the darkened areas, looking for something to kill. Murder on its mind, a simple hope. That tonight, this night, it could catch something. Catch, and end the life, snuff it like a whimper. It moves slowly, seeing something. Eyes spot them well. It coils itself, then prepares to leap!

The lights come on automatically as the human walks into the room, and the cat's aborted leap gets it caught on one of the carpeted levels of the cat tower. It hisses, the tiny kitten fully aware that it could have taken the much-larger human. But the hand that lifts to scratch it under the chin is allowed. Marginally.

The face of an old friend looks up fondly, as Cassandra Cain scritches the orange kitten, smiling. She seems soft now, her shirt torn and wet with blood. Still, she's more than gentle.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Cats are absolutely terrifying predators, thank goodness Phoebe is at least twenty times the size of the little house-tiger. She comes in from the other side of the rec room, a book in her hand, balanced with her fingers in the inside of the spine, a notebook on the opposite page, and she greets Cass and the cat respectively -- then she pauses.

    And she takes a closer look at Cassandra, her head tilting slightly as she picks up that coppery, wet smell of blood.

    The dark-haired healer takes a deep breath, and gives Cassandra a pointed look.

Cassandra Cain has posed:
The cat, or kitten at this age, places his little paw on Cassandra's own, claws sheathed. Thus having established his dominance over her he immediately rolls over and goes to sleep. Or pretends to, it's hard to tell.

Cass acknowledges the warrior, then lowers her arm. She turns and looks at Phoebe, having obviously heard her enter, and takes her in with her eyes. Then she suddenly leans her head to the left a teeny bit, her eyes squinching, and smiles like a happy child! She's clearly not dying from whatever wounds there are, or she's just not worried!

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phobe sets down her books -- looks like she was taking notes on organs, and she sits down a moment, crossing her legs on the floor as she regards Cassandra with a tilt of her own, and she looks with concern over the bloodied shirt.

    "How much of that is yours?" she questions gently, and then looking down at her sweatshirt, she takes it off and offers it to Cass, the black sweatshirt with its Gotham U Rogues symbol on it offered thoghtflly to the other young woman.

Cassandra Cain has posed:
Cassandra opens her eyes properly when Phoebe speaks. She does that, almost as if she's reading the woman's lips. It might even be that; after all, she's never spoken in Phoebe's vicinity. Still she does look down at herself after being questioned. Her eyes glance up again, her head still pointed downward.
    Then she shrugs and begins to remove her hoodie, the armour inside slightly visible through the gashes.
    It looks as if she's been through a war. Something fought her, something with at least one very sharp blade. She's in a sports bra now, pants still on, and..wow.
    So many scars. Some of them are HUGE, what looks as if it were a gunshot wound or four on her ribs, some up her arms, shoulders, knife wounds in most exposed locations. Her arms are a particularly bad area for knife wounds. About eight are new, some still bleeding sluggishly. Her left ribs are bruising, it's possible there's internal problems.
    And some of the gunshot scars are way too large. They could only have been from where she was physically smaller...
    And... she shrugs. Words not forthcoming.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    The dark-eyed outsider was maybe not ready to see all of Cassandra's injuries. Old scars that she knew in her bones couldn't heal. Her cheeks darken a moment as she tries not to stare at Cassandra's wounds, new and old.

    And she winces, physically in commisseration, and begins to chat, taking her backpack off a moment as she plls out a pocket first aid kit, and then looks to Cassandra.

    "I can't really do anything about the older wounds, but I could heal the newer ones, if you'd like." she states in a soft tone of voice.

    "Gun shots are pretty hard on the body. That's how Tim and I met. I took two to the stomach -- bird watching gone wrong -- he pulled me out of a bad situation and was ready to get me to the hospital when they sort of.. fell out the side of my body."

Cassandra Cain has posed:
Cassandra winces when Phoebe stares. She actually puts her arms over her stomach, a useless attempt to hide some of the damage that only a moment earlier wasn't an issue. She's reacting, but only to Phoebe's feelings. If she could say so, she'd say,

"Sorry," her mouth says, with an actual word. In English. With sounds and everything, and her eyes say it as well. But she doesn't pull away, her skin showing a soft blush.

Whatever happened to her, she didn't mean for it to hurt anyone else. The pain of the wounds seems pretty minor, though from Phoebe's memories she'd know, they probably hurt a lot!

Training, perhaps. Or just stubbornness.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Don't be sorry. It's just skin." Phoebe replies with gentleness, her shoulders relaxing a moment. "... it hurts a lot to get them. I didn't mean to stare." she adds on, her dark eyes drawing up to Cassie's and she offers out her hands, palm up, sitting in her jeans and her gray tank top Her lips curl into a gentle smile.

Cassandra Cain has posed:
For once, Cass doesn't seem to know what to do. She tilts her head and looks at Phoobe's extended hands, then hesitates. For all the way that Nightwing defers to her, she looks just like a girl at the moment. Confused, uncertain. But she does reach up, her eyebrows quirking as if asking, is this the right way to do it? Reaches and puts her hands into Phoebe's own. Not another word.

And it might be noted, that one word is more than anyone else gets.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "It works best with skin-to-skin, but I can do it through armor and cloth as well. I'm told it feels different." she replies to Cass, "... it will feel weird." she adds on, and Cass might catch that little glow of light in Phoebe's hands, between the dark hands below and Cassandra's hands on top.

    The teenager relaxes, and closes her eyes, putting an awful lot of trust in Cass as well as she focuses that od dpower of hers.

    Cassandra would feel something akin to warm water and the sensation of that pins-and-needles jangling of nerves gone numb meandering its way up her arms, seeking out the worst of the injuries she had suffered, aiming for those bruises along her side.

Cassandra Cain has posed:
Almost-torn rib muscles knit under the ministrations, and Cassandra actually grits her teeth. It hurts for just an instant, but she feels that she can show that weakness right now. If Phoebe only knew how much of a gift that trust is, from her.

'Two for flinching' her father's memory says, aiming the pistol at her again. Then he'd squeeze the trigger, and eight year old Cass closes her eyes and waits for the impact.

The thought is hopefully not shared, though her eyes close. And the pain stops, the warm water sensation washes over her. She actually gasps then, not feeling pain for the first time in ages. It's so...soft.

And she opens them with eyes full of wonder.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    The thought is not shared; as far as Phoebe can see. She's busy concentraiting on trying to heal the girl's body.

    Old wounds, scars, those still linger like bad memories scoring accross the skin, but inside, the bruising, the injuries, lungs burning and muscles tearing and tendons stretching, all that eases back into place. Ribs knit. And as the deeper, more critical wounds begin to heal, so do the cuts on her arms begin to ooze, darken, then scab over in quick order.

    The tingling feeling makes its way through Cassandra's body, though the warmth centers on the injuries.

    And Phoebe doesn't say a word about any flinching. Her own jaw is clenching, a little bit, her eyes still closed, her hands supporting Cassandra's.

Cassandra Cain has posed:
Cassandra watches Phoebe as she works, turning off her own body's sensations. She listens to the story that the young woman is telling, about the way she guides her self through the injuries that Cassandra has inside. She smiles, feeling proof that her reading of others is true...when she sees the healer guide her power at the arm, and the arm tingles, begins to knit.

Then she tilts her head, a feeling inside shifting. The warmth missing some of the ...she frowns, the way that Phoebe skips injuries if they're too old to heal telling her something. There's damage, in her head. Something that Phoebe couldn't address.

She wonders what it is, as she sits there. Unable to speak, but with her arms no longer bleeding, and her bruises gone.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "... my powers aren't very strong. I can't reverse things that were already healed up. Scars, physically, are beyond my powers... so far." she gives an awkward smile. "Fresh wounds. Triage, those I can handle--" she whispers, and she winces, and drops her hands from Cassandra's, shaking them out as if they themselves have gone numb. Her nose wrinkles slightly as she looks down.

    "... must have taken more out of me than I thought..." she murmurs, mostly to herself, but she does gives a slight smile to Orphan, and she sets her hands on her own knees, looking over the injuries on her arms.

    "You'll feel tingly for another couple of days, off-and-on. It'll sort out."

Cassandra Cain has posed:
"Cassandra," says the voice of the woman that Phoebe just gave her all to heal. She sits quietly, expecting nothing, watching everything. The name is her thanks, her entire repertoire of words totalling six...and two of them given tonight, to one person.

She doesn't touch. But she does wait, seemingly in no rush to rise. She will only get up after Phoebe, out of respect. Though it may not be apparent, she does this thing.

Words would make it so much clearer.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe gives a smile. "Phoebe." she confirms her identity. "You're one of the people who Tim suggested I train with." she replies as she hops to her feet, in a crouch -- teeters slightly -- and then as she stands, she offers Cassandra a hand up, mindful of the little squeaker who may or may not be snoozing around them (or lying in wait to pounce!!).

Cassandra Cain has posed:
And he does, though Phoebe's toes are in danger more than her life.

Cassandra lets herself be raised up, eyes lowered. Until she is standing, and she pauses as the healer speaks again. She glances down, then gives a little shrug that seems...out of place.

Then ignoring the kitten, she gestures toward the training area, or the stairwell which leads toward it.

She doesn't seem confused, though the whole idea of being healed only to fight again is, perhaps, ironic.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "OH -- oh no I didn't mean right now. I'm kinda... wibbly-wobbly at the momeeennnt you little cretin--" she winces, and looking down at the little orange tiger, she wiggles her toes a little more to encourage the playtime as she playfully scolds the little whiskered one.

    "-- I need to take a break between exerting a lot of energy like that." Phoebe gives a small smile, and then points to the kitchen. "I was just about to make some tea. Would you like some?"

Cassandra Cain has posed:
Cassandra's answer, in the form of offering Phoebe a supportive arm, is likely enough. She has a lot to think about, but it all stays inside her head. Except for the way that she steps, ever so carefully, over the kitten so as not to harm it.
    And the way she makes absolutely certain that Phoebe gets her tea.