Owner	Pose
Bruce Wayne	Bruce Wayne is sitting in the big chair in front of the big computer, where he belongs, generally speaking. He has on a black t-shirt, which might seem plain except that it's a designer shirt of seamless cotton that costs nearly a thousand dollars. Khaki slacks and comfortable shoes, he's leaning back in his chair, stroking his chin as he goes through the previous night's crime blotter. You couldn't rely on cops for statistics anywhere, much less in Gotham, but seeing what they bothered to respond to was always a good step towards seeing what the waves were like in the sea of crime that was his city. "Cassandra," he says. He's the only one who can ever detect her when she's quiet (other than Cass's mother). It's part of why he finds Cass so impressive. That and all the bone-breaking.
Cassandra Cain	The smile on Cass' face is proud. The fact that her boss, HER boss, can tell that she's there is proof that she's in the right place. She's not wearing designer stuff; a t-shirt with Mickey Mouse on the front, and yoga pants? Well, she probably listened to Steph again on fashion choices. She's not a talker. Cass walks to slightly behind and to one side of Bruce, looking over his shoulder at what he's doing. The slight frown that appears when she sees data on-screen admits wordlessly that she's yet to really grasp that part of the job. Her right fist tightens, the sound of the bones grinding against each other a word almost to itself. "Why?" she asks. She assumes that Bruce knows that she's looking, after all. Why would she add more details when he and she both already know what she's discussing? Why is he doing that? She has a few things on her mind, but since Bruce is on a job, she can wait.
Bruce Wayne	Bruce Wayne slowly turns his chair to face the most unique of his various apprentices. In some ways, the others were simple by comparison - Cass didn't need training so much as she needed deprogramming. At first, Bruce had tried that more formally, but had learned, with time, that being part of the Bat-family, being cared about, being protected, being safe with them, did more to undo the damage her father had done than any formalized therapy ever would. When you're an orphan (and Cass was, not just by codename, for her parents had never been parents, not really), family is the only real cure. "Awareness is important. You know that. Being able to find the hidden. Sometimes it's a matter of a killer hiding in shadows. Only we have to find them in shadows we can't even see, shadows from across the city. This is a way for me to glimpse what might be hiding there. Seeing patterns. Finding anomalies," he says. He sighs. "Think of the city as a puzzle. I'm looking for pieces that don't belong."
Cassandra Cain	Cass bites her tongue, but Bruce knows well enough to realize that she wants to call it 'stupid'. To write it off as a waste of time, when ...she has all these reasons. So many issues to get past, but...empty your cup. She takes a breath, closes her eyes a moment, and visibly tells that voice inside to calm. When she's back, she's listening and thinking about what he's said. But it wasn't automatic or easy. ANY other apprentice wouldn't have had to do that. But then, none of them can run the obstacle course blindfolded and not miss a beat. "I have words to say," she offers. Which is a start, her language lessons have been making that possible and in some ways, improving her overall effectiveness. She points to the screen though, to help get her point across. "This words." She means that she has data to add to the charts, but she's not THAT good at English yet. Working with the tools she's got.
Bruce Wayne	Bruce Wayne has learned to parse Cass' unique way of communication. He's not perfect (a fact for which he holds himself accountable - however hard he is on others, he reserves the highest performance expectations for himself). A younger Bruce, before he built this little army of his, the angry young man who first loomed over Gotham, would not have had the patience for these difficulties. But he's an older man now. Wiser. More mature. Hell, he's a father. Which, he's learned, has only made him more dangerous. Because now he has people of his own for whom to fight. "Take your time," he says, intrigued to learn what she has to say.
Cassandra Cain	She closes her eyes a moment, thinking back. Chewing on her lip, she nods as she finds the term she's looking for in her lessons. Luckily Steph has taken some special time to give her police terminology, because it's essential to the systems and work that we do here. So she's able, even if she still has to dig sometimes to find the right ones. "Assholes in place Crime Alley. I watch. Report no, police make work bad." Okay, so she's not quite nailing it down yet! But given that there's been hints of corrupt policing in Crime Alley, that might be enough to go on. "I no fight yet. You say hitting police is no, but eleven stops make. I show who and where?" Translation available on request.
Bruce Wayne	Bruce Wayne nods, "You observed some...assholes," he says. Not a term he would normally use, not that he's averse to profanity in particular, but just because it's too general. But he doesn't have enough detail yet for specificity. "And decided to see what they were up to instead of immediately attacking. Nothing wrong with that, so long as they aren't directly hurting anyone that needs protection. Intelligence is good, but we can't let innocents be hurt." He knows she knows that, but he's Batman. He's always going to reinforce the lessons he's given. With more information, he raises an eyebrow, "Ah. Corrupt cops. An eternal plague of Gotham," he nods. He could just inform Gordon but there were limits to what Jim could do even with his authority. Not so many limits on the Bat. "Show me," he says, flicking a few keys and bringing up a map of the city. "Point."
Cassandra Cain	More than pointing, Cass reaches out. She's actually remarkably capable with touch-screens, and she zooms in on Crime Alley easily, reaching over Bruce's left shoulder to do so. With one foot up in the air, she's adequately balanced and her face is stuck in that odd completely serious stare she uses when she's working. Her eyes flick around the map, then she pulls it to one side. Tapping, she upnods one spot, a parking garage. Then she leads Bruce on a trek across Crime Alley, occasionally disgorging into the surrounding zones. It's clear that the cops are avoiding existing patrol routes, using their knowledge to do so. If anything proved that it was actual police, this would be it. They know too much about the cops on duty to do this with that level of avoidance. Then the route returns to the parking garage. She taps it there, and nods. She doesn't even need to say more; clearly the cops park there for the night. Then, without warning, Cass asks, "Why rodents? Damien playing with." She looks confused, and possibly a bit weirded out. Oh, the oppossums in the mansion.
Bruce Wayne	Bruce Wayne follows where she zooms in and does research on another screen, typing with a free hand. He's more adept with computers than he gets credit - Tim and Barbara will always be supreme in those areas, but Bruce Wayne is a prodigy among prodigies. He's just good at everything. It can be very annoying. "Parking garage is currently without an operator and technically closed to outside use. Used to belong to the Veterinary hospital next door until Firefly burned it down a few years ago. I guess they couldn't save his cat. Don't worry, we got all the animals out safely," he says. "Seems like we should probably set up a sting and take them there. Follow them again and take pictures this time. Evidence will help in making sure they're prosecutied." He doesn't break a smile but he does raise an eyebrow, "Opossums are incredibly clever and resilient creatures. Like bats, they're survivors. And Damian has a difficult time with feeling empathy for other living things. Anything he cares for is welcome in this house, because he needs to care more."
Cassandra Cain	Yes. Bruce is the kind that could beat you at DDR if you took him on, even though it's not remotely linked to the work skillset. This is partly why Cass works with him. She has a lot to learn, even if sometimes she seems 'perfect'. However if she's moved on from the work topic, it's because she feels that it's been addressed. So she nods at Bruce's assessment of his son. She barely sees the kid, which is a sadness since he and she are in so many ways alike. "Could teach to dance," she offers. Regarding Damien. Which he'd probably object to, but given him? You never know. Honestly Cass' recent obsession with ballet has been a dream come true when it comes to social therapy. Also a -killer- cover story.
Bruce Wayne	Bruce Wayne agrees with Cass' assessment of the situation. They had a plan and would act further once she had gathered more information. No need to meander on about it. "I think that would be good for him, but he might be difficult to sell on the concept. Western biases tend to regard dance as a feminine practice, especially the more artistic styles like ballet. It's excellent training for flexibility and balance. I took a few lessons, once upon a time," he admits. Fond memories of Paris as a young man, the times when he wasn't being hunted by the master assassin he trained under there. "I could force him to do it, of course, but then you'd bear the brunt of his resentment. Perhaps we can find a way to make it seem like his idea," he says with a hint of a playful quirk at the corner of his mouth.
Cassandra Cain	Damien is, so far as Cass knows, a pretty good guy. Bit defensive but so was she, at his age. She wasn't the one dragging HER out of her shell, but she remembers it being done. And how gently. "Does he need? If no, then no." She doesn't feel that there's any benefit to being forced without real value for the effort. However... "You?" She tilts her head to the right, looking at Bruce with surprise evident on her face. She wasn't expecting that admission.
Bruce Wayne	Bruce Wayne nods, "Me. I trained in a lot of disciplines, not all of them immediately, obviously useful. Ballet is more rigorous than some martial arts and requires incredible discipline and self-control. My feet bled quite a bit, as I recall, but it was worth it. But I don't have the soul of an artist. I'm a technician. I could execute the moves, but I couldn't make them sing." "I mean sing metaphorically, in the sense that I didn't give the emotional thrill that people get from watching good dancing. Maybe I'd be better now, but I don't think my body could do now what it did then," he says.
Cassandra Cain	That makes Cass nod. Her feet bleed, from time to time. It's a sign that she needs to care for her body, and she does so with all the time and effort she gives her pushups, or handstand work. Feet are important, and ballet taught her to care for them! Which makes her pause. Her face shows thought, and intensity. She looks left, then right, then asks a question. "You, can write? What you do?" Pause, she frowns, then adds, "Did. All things you did, in order." She's got something in her head, and this is apparently a part of the process.
Bruce Wayne	Bruce Wayne raises an eyebrow, "All the things I did? You mean all the different things I studied? That would be quite a list. I'm still learning, but when I was a young man, I was obsessed. Almost mad. I sponged up skills and knowledge like a vacuum cleaner, all to add to my arsenal. All to make me more dangerous. All to make me Batman." "It worked, but it wasn't without cost. To me, to those around me. Alfred suffered the most, I think, as I left him behind to pursue my path and he just had to hope I came home alive. I almost didn't, many times," he sighs. He doesn't talk much about these things. Not even with the Robins and the others. Maybe because Cass is quiet, because she listens so deeply, it's easier to talk to her. Funny that.
Cassandra Cain	At that, Cass laughs. Not instantly, her face goes through concern first for the young Bruce, but she does get there. And when she laughs, she says, "Short list," suggesting an edited version. She smiles, that easy smile she gets when she's okay with things. Then, she taps the screen that they were using to do statistics. "Damien. Smart," she says, her point not ...entirely clear? But she's suggested that Bruce write an edited list of what he did, and how he got so strong. And Damien is smart...smart enough to find it? And she raises an eyebrow, knowing that Bruce will follow the logical trail. She glances at the ballet area, with the bar. Ooooh! Damien IS very competitive, it's true.
Bruce Wayne	Bruce Wayne grins as he catches on, "Ah. Clever girl," he says. He opens a document and starts writing a list of the various disciplines in which he trained. At Cass' suggestion, he edits it down to essentials mostly, but leaves a few of the extras in. Like ballet and trapeze and theater. "Theater was especially useful. Disguise, changing your voice, going undercover. Becoming someone else, enough so that other people will believe in you. I think that one will be one of the hardest for you, I'm afraid," he says. "Theatricality in general is a useful skill. The reason we wear the costumes isn't just to protect our identities, but to strike fear, to be intimidating. Of course, coming out of the shadows helps. Some costumes, in the full light of day..." he says. Mister Miracle, looking at you, pal. "Maybe just post it up when you're training in your dance, while Damian might come across it."
Cassandra Cain	Cassandra Cain does sometimes resemble a velociraptor. Now however she's lost the smile, and is looking avidly between the list he's typing and Bruce's own face. She hadn't considered acting or theatre, any more than she'd considered learning to drive stick or write novels. Which is a hole in her training; she'd benefit greatly from being able to disguise properly, or more properly adapt her body language. Perhaps she could even come to grow from this experiment, as much as Damien. Even if it was meant to help him, Bruce has Cass' attention too now. But then, she turns and looks at her combat outfit. Hoodie, samurai pants. Gloves? Functional, comfortable, can protect her face if .... Ah, it's fine. "Show theatre," she insists firmly now. It seems that Damien will have some real competition after all! Perfect.