2017-07-17 - All Good Things

Cassandra Cain is reading.

That alone should be reason for a freaking celebration, but the fact that she's reading a kindergardener's basic book on a picnic table is not quite the celebration that Barbara was hoping for when she sent her to train. She's in the park outside Summer Set, and has been sending messages all day begging for a train wreck or a ninja attack.

She gets neither of these things. She does get Conner, though, in street clothes. He's given up on the minimal illusion of the glasses, but still dresses like someone whose high school wardrobe was picked out by farmers and now has some independence to wear whatever he pleases... which is accurate. Coincidentally, the farmer stuff has kinda ended up trendy. "Sorry I'm late, I was in class, my phone was off." He leans over, kissing her cheek, then peeks at her book. Cassandra Cain is using a coloring book that connects the dots to help her draw a letter 'i'. She has managed somehow to screw it up four times already, and there's a torn and crumpled paper under the table. She turns to take the kiss and then waves at the book in annoyance. "Stupid." I'm stupid? It's stupid? Likely both at the moment.

"Try business classes sometimes. I swear, some of these people are getting paid to come up with catchy phrases describing things that there are already words for," Conner says, rubbing her back gently. He sits across from her, looking at the book. "Just... take your time. Not everything is going to come as easily to you as kicking butts. Take it from a fellow lazy student."

Cassandra Cain doesn't un-tense. She instead sweeps her arm across the table and sends the books and the hated evil crayon onto the ground. "Not lazy!" she insists, turning to glare at Kon. Apparently not the right thing to say. "Trying, really trying. Just...brain on other problems. Not this...waste of time stupid stupidness!" Words are hard and she speaks better when she's not agitated.

"Sorry," Conner says, flinching a bit at his mister, and moves, picking up the thrown aside book and Crayon. He sits next to her, putting them both back in front of her. "I know you're trying. I do," he says, taking her hand in his. "But... you can't force it. It won't happen over night. Kids spend years learning how to read and write. Even the smart kids that try very hard."

Cassandra Cain is acting like a child. She realizes it, then takes a moment and breathes. It doesn't take long and the change is immediate and might be startling. Two breaths later, calm has come to her eyes and her hands still. She has a temper, and she knows it. And apparently nearly perfect control of her adrenal glands. "Barbara is wrong. This is not the way. Need to clear mind, then can focus on stupid wordthings."

Conner leans forward, resting his forehead on hers, a quiet, affectionate gesture. "There will always be something else going on," he says gently. "I am happy to help you clear your mind, but there is literally always going to be some distraction. If it's bad enough that you can't focus, not have trouble, not would rather be working on something else, but literally cannot focus, I will do what I can."

Cassandra steeples her fingers, looking at Conner as if gauging him. He apparently passes some kind of test, because she shortly makes room for him at the table and pats the place beside her. "Maybe you can figure it. I am too close to problem, but have been figuring for too long on my own."

"Figure it out, and thinking too long on your own," Conner corrects, gently. It's important for her to get these things right, but he's unsure how she'll respond to negative reinforcement. "This about the cat burglar?" he wonders.

"Hm," Cass wonders aloud. It's not an instant followup either, since this is important she has shown that she likes to get her words in order and not be unclear, which takes a moment.

Then a shake of her head. "Minor. Side effect of main problem. Do you know how I fight? Really know?"

"Tim explained some of it," Conner says, apologetic. The sort of thing he'd rather have gotten directly from her, but... well, communication can be the weak point in their relationship, different first languages and all. He briefly makes sure there's nobody close enough to eavesdrop, and tells it as he understands it. "Raised from birth without written or spoken word, trained to read body language as your only language, know the punch is coming, when, and where as soon as the muscles start tensing for the windup. Same way you can always follow our in person conversations... usually, but you're pretty lousy over the phone."

She gives a bit of a wave, rolling her eyes. "Tim got top layer, more complicated than that. Listen." She turns, crossing her legs, and explains. Truly explains. "When you punch, right hook. Body has certain options afterward. Right? Right backfist, or kick, or left punch. Some options NOT available, body is in wrong position. One option will happen, easy to predict if you know both opponents. Or are one and can move in right way. After left punch, which I make you do, only say left kick available. Then headbutt. No choice, only option, but you not aware of it."

She shakes her head, then looks Conner in the eyes. "I see before first punch, entire fight. No surprises. Because of first move. That is how I fight. There is no defense. Just move pieces into place."

"Chess," Conner says. He thinks about it for a moment. "But someone like me could throw it off, I can move ways that other people can't. Might not think to in a fight, but can. Then there's those that treat logic as a personal enemy. It's... like they say chess grandmasters can sometimes struggle against people who are new to the game and just moving pieces randomly." Cassandra Cain touches Conner's nose with a fingertip. Then nods. He gets the problem. "I know no other way. Have learned how to lie, in order to move pieces better. Feint. Double feint, triple. Beat Shiva with lies that way. Not enough. Conner...I need a new way. This is not enough. Is not a game, this is to go beyond even myself now. How?"

"Because anyone who either moves in ways normal people can't, or who escapes falling into the normal, predictable traps, you can't deal with with that approach?" Conner wonders. Cassandra Cain nods. "Also, people who do not show first move. Drop first move from my read, I have no defense. Stand there like an idiot and get killed."

"Like... ambush? Blindsided? Or... just let you act first and take the role you usually do?" Cassandra Cain hm. She pauses, then leans back. Stands up. Takes a fighting stance. "Watch," she suggests. Then she throws a punch. Telegraphed from the shoulder, it's pretty easy to see what's coming. Then she nods, changing her stance a bit. "This one...harder, but this is what burglar did. What Shiva can do."

The second punch just goes out. It's the equivalent of an ambush, but with a punch. No telegraphing at all, not even to enhanced senses, and it takes every bit of control over her body that Cassandra has in her. To keep her muscles from pre-tensing in any way, to even keep her smallest responses from telling Conner what she's about to do. She just does it, it's there.

After that, she's sweating, and looks at him. "No first strike in my head, I can not plan fight, I have NO plan. So no defense."

"No windup, just..." He can't do exactly what she did, but with his speed, he can fake it. She sees a flash of tension in his shoulder, then the punch is out. For someone who normally punches at more human speeds, it's a bit of a shock. "Hmmm... Anyone else... I'd say don't think about it, just... react, but it sounds like that's already what you're doing."

Cass sits back down, looking defeated. "Best plan is to not plan, always. But must have a plan for when getting ass kicked. What is this," she pokes at the reading books, "compared to that? Fighting is life. Is my whole life." "Do you /want/ it to be your whole life?" Conner asks, taking her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "My approach... well, sometimes I have a plan, if I know the fight is coming, or if it's someone who is particularly dangerous... other times I just wing it. I didn't know I was going to be fighting Clayface when I went to chew out Lex Luthor, but I knew that my telekinesis would give me an advantage."

Cass sighs. She's really good at it too, puts her whole body into it, as she leans her head against Conner without answering. Because she doesn't have an answer to the question. So she listens to him talk, trying to figure out what to do with herself. "Most days yes. Some days, want more. Mostly just fight though." She gives a half-grin showing that she's kinda joking. "I do not know now Connor. But must solve this, and words on page not the answer. Are they? Are words hiding solution?"

Conner holds her to him, looking up into the sky. "Maybe? Sometimes distractions can help. And there's about... 4000 years of philosophy and such that basically only exists as written word these days. But... yeah, I can see how this would wear on you a bit." He kisses the top of her head. "It sounds like you kind of need to break a habit. That's... going to be a long, tiring process, and a hard one. It won't happen fast, and I'm not quite sure where to start." Cassandra Cain nods. Quietly. She's supposed to be this super-genius of fighting. Where is her mind now? This is the part where she's supposed to have some revelation.

And, maybe...it comes. "I have to go back to the beginning." David Cain. Home. The start.

"He... kind of messed you up in a lot of ways," Conner points out, rubbing her back. "I... I mean, I can get it. I've got to Luthor sometimes, but... are you sure?" he asks. Cassandra Cain smiles. "No," she says honestly. "But it's more than I had before."

"Need me to come with?" Conner asks, giving a hug. "With the suit, obviously. The S... usually either brings out the best or worst in people," he says warmly. "I... think I might have a couple things we can try before that."

Cassandra Cain has an idea that if she starts heading home, dad will break out of jail. Things tend to come together that way, she finds. When they matter. "Not..for that. We try your things first, yes. Good." But her mind is on what is to come, now. She can feel fate pulling now. "Positive?" Conner asks, and considers. He gathers up her things, tucking them under one arm. "Come on, we'll go use my apartment, I have a full length mirror."

Cassandra Cain has nothing to say. She grasps Connor's free hand and waits for the ride. Conner isn't going to take off in the middle of Gotham, not until they get somewhere a little more secluded, but he takes to the air, holding her out, letting her feel the sensation of it before dropping down almost straight onto his apartment's roof. "Okay, so, thought I had, and... well, my super hero family doesn't really do crazy amounts of combat training, but you sound like you're kind of running off what they're going to do, not thinking about what you're doing. Sometimes, I'll give a villain an opening, a big, juicy one, too good to pass up, and, when they take it, I counter. I can't read a fight like you, but I can lay a trap."

Cassandra Cain nods. Firmly. "Opening. Right hook opens under arm, bad guard opens cascade penetration. Am aware. Why? Simple, ambush artist focus. Offense in upper cause guard raise, kicks available low. Leave my head unguarded, only dolt actually try for it. Some try, get present of hospital visit."

The pair head in through the roof access, the alarm that's meant to sound when that door is opened having been disabled some time ago by parties 'unknown.' "Well, it might be too much active thinking, and slow you down a bit, but... if you focus on yourself, on what you're doing, maybe it'll be less important to know what they're doing? It can get me in trouble, but if I'm fighting a normal dude, I just go full defense, and unless he's got a tank in his pocket, he's not hurting me. I might give him an opening, lay a trap, but, if my defense is good enough, I don't need to be able to predict, or even react."

Cassandra Cain hm. Thinking, she pokes at Connor as she lands. "How hard? Most times, just not be there. Must take hits sometimes with fight to draw out hits you want, learn how to take no damage early in training." She pauses, then looks at Conner thoughtfully. "Absorb hits is good, but requires ability to read strike coming at me. Easy to take no damage from hits if they are seen coming. Problem is not normal hits, is...umm.."

She pauses, then tries to go on. "Think problem in your own work. You are fighting enemy. Enemy has...ability to take your power with one hit. How to fight? You avoid. That is my problem now. One hit is fight over with this level of enemy. My only option is attack first and be the one who gets first strike."

"Me fighting Doomsday," Conner says, seeming to know what she means. "The sort of fight you don't just stand up and tank, when you're so far out of your depth that you basically /have/ to fight smarter."

Cassandra Cain was thinking the absorbing man, but she nods anyway. It still works. "One hit, fight over. No mistakes. They all know my defense now. Need new one." In a nutshell, the problem.

Conner leads her to his room, shutting the door behind them. There's a full body mirror hanging on the back of the door. HE positions her in front of it. "The mirror is your opponent. Where is your reflection open to a strike?"

Cassandra Cain raises an eyebrow. She sighs. Leans on the wall beside the mirror. "Connor." The word has a lot of meaning in it, for someone of so few words. She then pushes off the wall, takes a stance. And uses her right foot to point to about eighty-five points on her mirror image. One at a time.

"Ah," Conner says. "Okay, yeah, not really a martial artist, so... yeah." He pauses, taking breath, closing his eyes, thinking. Maybe he was on the right track just got the particulars down. "Okay, looking at yourself... where would you strike first, and what can you do to make that target less tempting while not also opening yourself up more somewhere else?"

Cass decides to answer. Really answer, even though there seems to be a high level of patience required and her body language is saying that she's teaching him, not the other way around. She glances at herself once, and then has a left hook kick coming from her own right side, coming at her image's wrist.

But his speed allows him to see that it moved almost seven times on different trajectories before that, and the control she's using is setting herself up to pull it because just before it arrives at where the wrist should be, her other foot is snapping at knee level and she's turning in mid-air to slash at her own eyes, and a piece of clothing she's hooked off the floor slaps across the mirror's throat hard enough to crack the mirror.

Then she settles to the floor, shrugging. "Something like that probably. Too many attacks, all real. No defense possible but retreat."

Conner winces at the cracking mirror. He's not a superstitious guy, but full body mirrors aren't cheap. "Ah," he says. "Sorry, maybe I just don't know enough to actually be of much help. I still think there's maybe some promise in working on your defense a bit. I've heard Tim telling me about how Batman will mention someone leaving no openings. His tone of voice makes it sound like that's ridiculously impressive and rare, but it sounds like you're a long way from there as you are right now. Maybe I'm totally off base, though," he says, running his fingers along the crack in the mirror with a bit of concern, then turning back to her. "Sorry if I'm not as helpful as I thought I was being," he says.

Cassandra Cain stops. Cold, right there. She reaches out and grabs Connor's shoulders, looking him in the face, and smiles. "Stop. You try. More than I deserve." She pulls him into a hug, if he'll take it, and sighs. "Batman say same things. You in good company. And...you are help."

"Well... you're right about most of that," Conner says, and gives the girls gentle kiss on the lips. "It's not more than you deserve," he says, and smiles a bit. "And I won't let someone talk bad about my girlfriend like that," he says with a smile.

Cassandra Cain kisses. No need for comment, but when it's done, she says, "Have to go." Which is a step up; when they met, she'd already be gone. She's giving him a chance to say goodbye. Superboy nods, and hugs. "Need a ride home?" he asks. "And... will you at least tell me when you're leaving for 'home?' I won't come with if you don't want me to," he says, though it's clear in his body language that he wants to go with her, but will also respect her wishes, "but I want to know."

Cassandra Cain will be gone before he calls again. Because she just said it. She has to go. But not til the hug is over. There might not be another, and things...

Things will be different. That much is certain. Tomorrow.