3418/What's In A Glance

What's In A Glance
Date of Scene:	18 September 2020
Location:	Midtown
Synopsis:	And lo, did Thor meet with Orphan. And they did end up on tv together, and then spoke at length about...just kidding, they beat on each other like adults.
Cast of Characters:	Thor, Cassandra Cain

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Thor has posed:
    The great city of Manhattan is always abustle, with the rush hither and yon of people going about their day. Even in the small hours of the morning one can find a fair amount of people traversing the sidewalks and looking to their own tasks albeit late ones. Yet sometimes there are moments that cause that glut of people to falter or slow. Something that draws attention and causes the world to slow as the citizens of the city pause and smile. For something draws their attention.
    At first it was the beautiful blond woman who stood in front of a green screen set upon the edge of the large wrought iron gate entrance into Central Park. She is perfectly made up, ready for the cameras in front of her as she holds a pamphlet of papers before her. She had been talking and gesturing behind her even as she fielded questions given to her by the NBC crew back in the building.
    "So yes, Tom. I think we're looking at a chill in the air for the next few days and it might even be time next week for us to get ready for the Fall and take those air conditioners out of the windows." She smiles happily, beaming as she listens.
    And then behind her, between her and the green screen, a tall man had stepped into view. Wearing just jeans and a blue t-shirt, his hair drawn back in a pony tail. He looks almost comical as he hams it up a little pointing at the screen, then pointing at the camera.
    The people at home are likely the first to realize. Is that... is that Thor? One of the Avengers?
    But then the word goes through the small crowd as more and more people stop to gather when that tall man steps up behind the weather caster and says, "Pardon me, is this something I should know about?"
    He smiles, the woman blinks and laughs and smiles. And suddenly the news has a special guest.

Cassandra Cain has posed:
"So, Thor, can I call you Thor?" The weather lady puts on her best, most charming smile as she finds herself in not only a production but an event! "Our viewers would like to know, are we likely to have any storms in the upcoming week? We know that you have a bit of influence over that at times."

She seems to be adapting with considerable aplomb, an ability which has nothing to do with the butterflies in her stomach as she looks this man over. There are quite a few fantasies in her past that go along with those locks of golden hair.

The fact that she misses the rest of what's going on is, of course, forgiveable. Thor is distracting up close, even when he's not an enemy.

With Central Park as a backdrop, there's always someone there. People running past who pause to see what's going on. A sudden walker who steps past them, taking advantage on full camera of their own distraction. Then a smallish asian lady who walks out a moment later with the pilfered wallet and slightly bruised knuckles. She frowns, vanishing off camera after the joggers, but looks curiously in Thor's direction.

A moment later she walks into view, up front. Thor seems busy. Cassandra can wait.

Thor has posed:
    "Ah, I do. I do." Thor answers her easily enough even as he straightens up to his full considerable height, smiling a little. He rests his hands on his hips and nods to her with a somewhat pensive look, biting his lower lip. "Though even as the God of Thunder, affecting the weather... well it is not something one should do lightly."
    He gives her a nod and smiles, then looks to he camera, resting a hand gently on her shoulder as he gives a wave to the crew.
    Which has a pair of young voices, a teenage girl and boy shouting together, "Thor we love you!"
    "And I love you!" He calls back, waving now off to the side, that winning smile an open thing. He steps back, turning his attention on the weather forecaster and smiling to her as well. Then they start to chat back and forth, presenting this curious tableau before the young woman who emerges from that alley.
    She's seen him before, the handsome profile, the ease of manner. But what is more clear to her, more clear to her than to anyone else, is the way he speaks. The way he presents himself. It's not a show.
    He means every word he says. Even when the young couple yell to him from the crowd, he answers with sincerity back. For really he does have such a large heart. And she is one of the few that can truly see it.
    "Forgive me this intrusion, I hope I didn't put you too terribly out." Thor tells the weather woman, stepping back and starting to take his leave. And Cass can perceive his thoughts clear in the way he moves. 'I hope I did not put them too terribly out.'
    "I wish you well, and take care, to you and yours." He steps back, and once again. 'I wish them well.'
    It's only then that he starts to depart. He steps to the edge of the crowd right before Central Park. It's not a /lot/ of people, perhaps a few dozen, but there are smiles and photos taken, selfies made, quick laughs and shared greetings.
    Then those bright blue eyes sweep away and he lifts a hand to wave over his shoulder after them...
    When that gaze drifts over that young Asian woman. And she is likely to think it will just keep going as he starts to walk. Yet instead he stops, checking his stride and then...
    Just a wide smile blossoms onto his features as he catches sight of her. "Cassandra?" Since the only word she actually /spoke/ to him. And he remembers it. The gift of her name. "Cassandra!"
    And then he is walking to her, and she can read in that sentiment, the instinct is there for him to embrace her, perhaps even lift her up and spin her around. Yet she can also read in him the way he checks himself. Knowing that the ways of those of Midgard are not his own. So instead he steps up to her and laughs, then offers her his hand. "Tis good to see you."

Cassandra Cain has posed:
It's such an odd moment for the little lady. She reacts to his open words, the ones he never speaks, and the smile that blossoms onto her face is one that only Stephanie gets to see. She, like Thor, shares on a level that somehow breaks through.

It's an odd moment, but it turns into something almost pretty. She has scars on her cheeks but they turn upward. Her hands, torn up by many times in battle, raise without a thought of defense. She shifts her head, a glance that raises an eyebrow to say what her words can not. That the first impulse would not have been unwelcome, since he'd asked so nicely. There are manners there, and sarcasm for his second-guessing himself. Even a touch of blindness to what women and men are to each other.

But it doesn't make her less of herself, as she ignores the hand and tells him to try again. Not with the words that could so easily be misunderstood, but by hopping over the hand and planting her bottom on his forearm. She leans in to hug him at the neck then, hesitation never being a thing.

He was nice enough to ask first, after all.

Thor has posed:
    She'll feel the rumble of his laughter in his chest as he takes her into that embrace, spinning her around once and giving a gentle squeeze. The man is warm, and smells like the ocean at the moment, a touch of the sea and a hint of steel in that masculine scent before he eases back and sets her down, hands resting upon her shoulders.
    Some of the people around them laugh and one person applauds as if this was something one or the other of them should be proud of, when really it may just be nice for some to see one of their heroes acting like... a human.
    "I had thought after the celebration our paths would not cross again. But now the return is all the more welcome." As if she had been gone forever and they had not only met the once. Though that meeting, it had left its mark on the man, for she had been so genuine and so open. And she 'spoke' from the heart.
    Then he gestures with a nod ahead, and says simply. "Come, walk with me." Though again she can read the same mirror in his stance, and that gift of the Allspeak gives her such insight that it is as if they were old friends.
    And as he starts to walk she can tell his spirits soar, for it is a fortunate thing the finding of a friend. "What has passed for you since last we met?"

Cassandra Cain has posed:
Without hesitation she takes to her feet again, though she may take two steps to every one of Thor's. Her eyes flicker about, saying of how there can be dangers. She always watches, never turning away from the pursuit of safety, and protection of the weak. This is all in a simple glance, the way her eyes continually spiral or turn aside. Manners aren't part of it, she is a warrior first and by habit as much as choice.

Each scan comes back negative; Thor's presence has kept away the ruffians for another cycle. There's no gratefulness in it, merely a moment to look at him instead and listen to what he's saying. She's busy, and this is no place to let down your guard she seems to say.

The party. She pauses in her roving eyes to think, relying on him to take over for that long. She shrugs off the time that's passed, not particularly worried for the lapse. She knew they'd meet when it was time. People worry too much about these things. It all is in her walk, in the way she tilts her head and the cant of her smile. You worry too much, dude.

Still. She makes a small motion, nearly nothing, but in it is hidden a hesitation. She's done something a bit off. Tightening her fist, her shoulders tense as well. She's fought. She's fought and lost. And it was difficult to handle, she's still worried for the way it went. She looks over, worried that he won't understand.

He does, but she's worried anyway. Nobody else would have heard.

Thor has posed:
    His own response to her sentiment is his features twisting up slightly and one eyebrow quirking, as if to answer to her about his worries a simple query. 'Do I?' though these two small words are uttered to no one else save her, and for the world it looks as if the two just exchanged glances and smiles.
    But then her hand makes hat fist and his gaze follows the line of it, the All-Father's gift giving him the words to go with her mannerisms, giving him the insight that so few can reach with her, yet it's coupled with the fact that she can tell the man is a warrior with every step. Despite his manner and his optimism, she can sense that subtle power that hovers just upon the edge of him.
    He nods, "There is no shame in loss." He tells her, even as they walk and he eases his stride a little so she does not have to rush quite as much.
    But then he lifts a fingertip as if to ask for her attention as he adds quietly, "If you learn from it."
    Then a shift in his bearing, the hint of a glower. "Who set upon you so?"

Cassandra Cain has posed:
Nothing for a moment. She actually doesn't answer, her body a tablet of stone. Then she sighs expressively, letting herself be chided for her own reticence. A wobble of the hand is offered; it's complicated, she suggests with her wordless speech.

Looking up to him she frowns, then glances down to his arms. His hands specifically, and she looks back up as quickly as she was away. She opens her hands in front of herself, hesitating as she tries to figure out how to explain a concept that isn't necessarily of the body.

She opens the fingers, then spreads them with a firmness that wasn't there at the beginning of the motion. The right hand splays again afterward, the concepts jumbled for a moment, then clear. She is suggesting that she 'explain' the problem, but that this isn't the way to do it.

Then she motions to the embassy, her eyes glancing behind to the reporters and those who watch. Distaste in her eyes is for them, but not for what they are. It's for what they aren't. This isn't for the eyes of civilians.

Also she makes a slight moue of her lips when he asks who it was. That, that at least was clear. She doesn't THINK that way. There are no names, only people.

Thor has posed:
    There is nothing in him save patience in that moment, 'listening' as he watches her and walking along with that easy gait now. His head tilted just so and to the side. Another warrior, her glances perhaps separating him. Them. From all the others, one she does not necessarily know but it is perhaps the concept and proof of the defeat that has felled her in a way.
    A glance is given to the embassy as he had been heading that way, just a block and a stride across the street to that broad front of the old building. He gives a nod to her and says with a smile, "Come we shall adjourn and share as we can." But she can sense he intends to know more.
    But then his smile broadens and he says, "As for myself," He touches a hand to his chest, "Much is in the offing. My good friend Hank, his daughter is imperiled and we shall aid her. Though... it may be some time until we find where she is." She can see that subtle tension in his stride, the empathy for Hank, the wish to be of use. To do good.
    Then as they reach that stoplight he pauses and hits the button to trigger the cycle that will allow them to cross. "There has been trouble with my brother." She can see that much is true and how that subtly weighs on him.
    "And much seems to be in transition for our team." Though there is something else that floats there upon the tip of his tongue that springs to his thoughts. Yet he checks himself on that as well and does not share that. Instead he smiles though she'll have likely seen that hint of a shadow there, "But that is mostly what has passed for me."

Cassandra Cain has posed:
She walks, listening with an intensity that belies her inability to hear anything that he says. She can, it is merely in a fashion that would be incomprehensible to a computer or anyone with an engineering degree. Her speech, and for now his, is all in the realm of adaption. The ability to walk and have it be with meaning, as she does now.

Her gait staggers an instant, something that she corrects. The timing of it says that she is reacting to his friend's daughter being imperiled, and how she winces with her own petty troubles when he's worried for something more serious. She looks at him with eyes that ask soft things, that worry. She tilts toward him, an offer of her own help. Then a glance at him and a subtle smile, eyes tilting away. She's laughing inside at her own arrogance, at her belief that she could help someone like a god. But the offer is still profferred; she IS that arrogant, and stands slightly taller though she admits that it is, in fact, a little bit funny.

She enters with him through the gate then and lets him lead. She has no intention of beginning the real conversation, if they're to have it, right there. Though when he speaks of his brother, she keeps something back of her own. A thought. She needs to consider this, she says. By not saying a thing.

Thor has posed:
    It's through that wrought iron gate and up those steps, he takes them two at a time but slowly so as to not force her haste. Once they reach the door one of the guards from within pushes it open and holds it out for them, which earns the man a smile and a nod from Thor.

    "Welcome, Prince Thor."
    "Thank you, Bjarke. Myself and the Lady Cassandra shall be taking our refreshment in..." For a moment he stops and then tilts his head to her, a silent question occuring to him and being asked of her, though it is more an idea that appears one she likely can sense in the offing as to its sentiment if not its true form. Something that she might enjoy.
    "In the ball room." At that he looks back to Bjarke who nods.
    "I shall pass word on to Helga."
    That said he turns and gestures with one hand, down the hall which is austere considering the old decor of the place. It seems to fit the Asgardians with only the hint of their home there in the hall. Just a few strides to the large wooden double doors that lead to the ball room where they had that festivity before. Only now when they enter...
    She will see it is a place that is entirely Asgardian.
    For it has become a training hall. Complete with sword and blades and shields and axes. All manner of weapons set in various display cases along with wooden training weapons and padded armor for those seeking to learn the ways of weaponry. There is an area where there's a fencing run for those to take each other to task, and a padded area likely for grappling and more earthy endeavours.
    "There," He says, though she can more likely see in his body language as he meets her eyes. This is a place that is safe to speak. At least he believes it to be so.

Cassandra Cain has posed:
Ah, if only she actually was speaking English. She'd have been expecting to dance. In this case however she looks at the interaction between Bjarke and Thor like a guest, and a particularly dim one at that. She betrays no sense of threat from the one who serves, though her eyes do look him over.

She smiles as she seems to figure out certain things about him, perhaps one or two which might surprise even Thor. Watching her watch people might actually teach him things about his own staff; to her, love is as obvious as paper in a pond. And perhaps as depressing.

She reacts not at all to the names, neither Helga's nor Thor's himself. She hasn't clicked perhaps, that these noises have reason to be bothered with? Or it could be simply a choice. She definitely tenses as they approach the ball room though. Thor's glances and walk tell her to expect something special.

She lets him ignore her offer, though she will speak of it again. This...this is worthy, and she lets the previous thoughts lapse as she turns away from him a moment. Spinning slowly about, she takes in the room. She spots exits first, bypassing even the weapons. The way she cases it tells much about herself. Exits, possible hidden locations. Then she scans the weaponry, her eyes hesitating over the ones which she has the least experience. Not with fear, but with anticipation. She wants to learn them all. All of them, and her eyes turn back to him with an attached smile.

Then she shakes her head. No, I will not be distracted by this pretty sight. Waggling her finger one time she shifts, then steps to the grappling area. But with a softness of motion, as if she expects NOT to grapple?

No, she expects to grapple, but not at full power. This is a conversation, not a challenge. She has something to show him.

Thor has posed:
    Behind her as she takes in the sight, Thor follows after as if proud. And she can see it, the way he moves, the casual glance given to each weapon. She might be able to tell there are stories held between himself and them, some of those weapons are as old as he is and they carry with them a wealth of a past. All visible in the way he looks at them.
    One hand lightly touches a display case that holds several training axes and his smile lifts a little more, but then he turns back to seeing her as she moves about the room and he takes a deep breath.
    Now that they have a measure of privacy he tells her, that offer she made so wonderfully, "It is a noble thing for you to offer of yourself in aid." For she only knows it is a task that concerns him, friends he holds dear. "Though it is dangerous."
    And perhaps then she may get an inkling that he can 'see' her, yet he does not know what a genius she is. What a true /warrior/ she is. For he has never seen her fight. A few more steps and his eyes tilt to the area that has a padded area where she'll see the 'gloves' which are more brutal looking than some of the weapons, almost looking Roman in origin. And the 'mat' is flattened and softened wood, though softer than the norm it still is hard enough to make someone pay the price for a fall.
    His answer to her about grappling, and then showing him something is at first just a quirk of an eyebrow. But then he nods and steps onto the edge there. One hand uncurls to her for her to do as she will.

Cassandra Cain has posed:
She nods. Simple, comprehensive, she accepts that there will be danger and moves past it. It is a thing of beauty in itself, a candle that would be this mortal but who does not mind if her own flame falls, so long as it does what it has chosen to be the right course before it sputters to sleep.

Thor would, perhaps, be struck with the history. A story once told, of a great warrior who was raised to be one. Raised from birth, he chose to change his ways as he learned of life. And the story ends, classically, with the teacher bowing to his student, saying merely, "You chose well."

Cassandra was raised to be a warrior. She chose to be a hero.

And she steps past it into the ring, then faces off against the God of Thunder himself. And her smile, fades, as she takes this as seriously as any battle. The stare of a warrior who will give you nothing. Before she...

Vanishes?

No, she just moved very, very fast. She was five steps away and suddenly she's sliding between his legs, slamming her elbow into the side of his knee. She climbs to her feet behind him and launches a kick at his back, knowing he'll turn but not which way. The impact barely would even register, but it is solid. And knocks HER back instead of him. She almost frowns, managing to hide it. Barely.

Thor has posed:
    They are two beings at opposite ends of the spectrum. She is speed and precision, while Thor is more power and endurance. Yet even as he stepped onto that softer wood padding he does not seem to expect her to take this as a true effort.
    Until he meets her eyes.
    For a moment his breath catches at that utter conviction there, having only seen such intensity summoned a handful of times in his life. To the artists she's trained with it was her 'killing intent' or her 'chi' but for Thor it is simply a warrior's intensity. Those blue eyes meet hers, then his own harden as he nods once. The decision is made. She shall task him and he shall stand against her.
    For a moment they look on each other and his breathing steadies. No formal stance from him. A simple shift to the side, one foot slightly ahead of the other, his hands open and held at his sides, his head slightly forward and lowered. He draws in a breath, broad chest rising, and then lowering as he slowly lets it out.
    And then she is moving. She rushes past, sliding across the floor and he reaches for her, too late. Her elbow slams into his knee and it's as if she struck a great tree, yet it is enough, right there... the jolt up her arm giving her enough feedback to realize that despite his godliness he is still composed as a man with a man's flaws.
    The knee gives, buckling briefly and breaking his balance, one hand slapping down to catch him even as he turns. She can read his form tensing to absorb the kick, a hand tightening to a fist as she is knocked back from the kick then he rounds reaching for her.

Cassandra Cain has posed:
She gives so little, her eyes having changed. That openness of earlier is as if it never was, and she assaults him without flaw. Not without fail, without FLAW. She has a perfection that comes only of that perfect blend of talent and skill, her fists turning to hands at the last moment to pull her past his reaching fist.

She herself is jolted, trying moves on him that could never work. But the obvious thing is, she does not know. That first strike alone would tell him things, that she is unprepared and her moves are, though perfection, still lacking.

A kick is thrown, spinning about to generate power. She drives it into his bicep, caroming off at a wierd angle as his warrior's reflexes let him deflect with that faith in his own endurance. If he reaches for her, he nearly catches. She is breathing fast already, trying to outmove him; she's clearly realized her one advantage, her speed. And it will not last forever.

A moment and she feints at his eyes. Whether or not it works she follows it up with a hook of one leg, right up his chest. Then her fists into his throat, the leg hooking high. A precarious position but one that should press on his carotid arteries. A three-second knockout.

If only he were actually human, and couldn't simply power out of it. And three seconds is far too long.

Thor has posed:
    She is so fast, and though he has faced others who are suitably quick she has a unity of mind and movement that is impressive. She seems to not need to hesitate or gauge, to Thor it seems all one clean smooth motion that is as if she planned the entirety of it which as him always a second behind.
    She lashes out and he tenses, her leg catching that hard bicep and then caroming off to the side, his brow furrowing as he focuses on her as she pushes in then slices a strike towards his eyes, instinctively getting him to lift his head...
    Even as she climbs up smoothly and curves that leg around his throat. It would have been masterful, a quick way to take down a man his size, perfectly, precisely stealing their consciousness away with the locking of that toned leg just so. She'll even feel him swallow as she tightens the grip.
    Yet then his hand curves around her leg and braces at her hip as he'll hold there, and then tell her silently with that faint pressure that the match.
    It is over.
    Or would be if her opponent was a mortal. And if not, then it was still over for in this moment with a grip on her his hands tighten but that is all. Then he murmurs, "You are, indeed, exceptional." She can hear the sincerity in his voice, and then if she relaxes her grip he'll let her down into those strong arms, meeting her gaze.
    And for a moment, those blue eyes hold hers. It might seem like there is nothing else in the world as he looks to her. His eyes drift down for an instant, then back and he lets a small breath slip from him that then summons a half-smile. She can sense him drawing breath to say something else. Yet he stops himself.
    But that doesn't stop her from 'hearing' it, for the sentiment is there in his expression. That she is beautiful. Not in perhaps the traditional sense, but more that what she is, how she interacts, how she moves, and how she fights. There is a beauty there.
    Then he will set her down upon the mats and rests his hands upon his hips. "You are... very good." He offers. In lieu of that truth.

Cassandra Cain has posed:
She releases him without a fight. The fight is, clearly, over. But he did not really try, and that hinders her. She sighs as she's placed down, her very stance, her very BEING unsatisfied. As if there was more which could have been done there. And she presses her fingers to her own closed eyes for a moment, as if she needs to do so.

When she opens them again however, there's something different in them. There's a hint, then a blaze. A brightness in her, as if she has (forgive the metaphor) levelled up? Become something more? She reaches and touches his hand, a gratefulness that was not there before.

You don't know a person until you've fought them, many teachers say. When he reaches to put his hands upon her shoulders, he'd see something new. She is ready for him to touch her. But..it's different now. She was ready last time. What's changed?

This time she was ready almost before he chose to do it. Her entire body, her eyes, her reactions, they all watch him ...better. She's reading him more clearly now, and everything he says is brighter.

She was ready BEFORE he chose to touch her. This is not a normal warrior. I lost, she says, because I hadn't fought them before. Not 'it will not happen again'. No, she's now learned this person the way she learned Thor. A fight with her now, after she's fought him, would be a completely different beast.

And she's not against it happening. Kind of thinks it's fun actually.

Thor has posed:
    There is an awareness to him even as he draws his lower lip between his teeth and works at it as he ponders what she is, and what this all means to her. Those eyes watch her, steadily and then understanding seems to dawn as his head lifts a little, lips parting. "Ah." He says and it's echoed in his stance, realization on some level how she may see the world, how she may interpret things. "I see!" He says, and in truth he does, to an extent.
    His hands ease from her shoulders as he ponders and then nods, "Well then..." She can see him saying gently, "If this is how you learn in some ways. Shall we continue?" And as he says that he walks back to his 'side' of that wooden padding, uncurling a hand to her. Because if she would know of him, then perhaps this is the way for her to do so.