2014-06-17 - The Fall of the Black Bat

Cassandra Cain is in the dojo area of the batcave, her own little cave that was built for her by the elder Mr. Wayne. Not directly connected to the primary batcave, it's a little room about twenty feet wide that is filled with carved stone soldiers in a ring around a center filled only by Ms Cassandra herself. Wearing only a pair of shorts and a sport bra, she lets her scarred body relax with her eyes closed and her fists lowered to her sides, body breathing as the morning's sleep remains in her system.

Her morning ritual, to allow sleep to remain in your system, to create the barely-waking state that comes when someone wakes you, and to awaken without limits, this is the one thing that nobody, ever, is allowed to see except for her father. Lacking her father, Batman. But the door is controlled by the bat computer, which is something that any Wayne could bypass. No more quiet, her eyes snap open and she turns to create the deadly art that she's never allowed to practice, but which is her strongest focus. Killing.

Her body slips forwards to the target locked in her vision and her right arm plunges into the chest of the stone warrior, then pulls to the right slicing out of it's ribs, the movement causing the first target to shatter outward from the center impact as she uses the motion to propel her towards another, her right leg spinning around as she pivots to go right through the second warrior in a tornado kick aimed to pass in through the kidney, through the heart and out under the armpit. She never uses tools for this, this is about release of the held-in urges she saves all her life. Yet she has something that nobody's ever seen before on her face: a bruise. Someone gave her a black eye last night, and she's apparently working off a bit of inner emotions.

As Cassandra stood their in the midst of the chaos, silence crept in the room. It stood around and waited for something to happen. The sudden sounds of the doors unlocking caused it to scurry away. Walking into the door was Bruce. Dressed in only a pair of sweat pants, his own scars bared themselves to the world. His blue eyes scanned the targets then went to Cassnadra's face.

The Black Bat was many things, but a punching bag was never one of them. Somehow someone landed a blow on her face and bruised it. He hated to see the bruising the other guy in retalliation. "You're bruised. You're angry," Bruce said, just stating the obvious. He was trying to figure out Cassandra's state of emotion and mind. Her responses would have helped with that a little bit.

Walking into the private dojo, he made the door close so it would just be the two of them. In the past Bruce has witnessed the ugly side to Cassandra. Many others in the Bat-Family hadn't. There was some degree of trust, be it freely given or given because of circumstances remained to be seen, between the pair. Understanding that she may have wanted to keep her secrets, he made sure the others couldn't butt in to whatever was about to happen. "How did it happen?"

Nobody's ever interrupted her before when Cassandra is doing this. It throws her off so much she halts a punch just before it can take the head off of a granite warrior with an uppercut. She pauses, rewiring her brain to be fit for human society, and then proceeds to throw up on the floor by Batman's feet.

She takes a moment to get a grip on herself, then looks up at Batman with calm eyes. "Ugh," she says, apologizing as well as she's likely to do, then mumbles something under her breath. Also not something she's in the habit of. "Broken," she says clearly. A new word, she didn't know that one. "I'm broken."

"And you can fix yourself," he extended a hand to Cassandra, "With help...if you allow it." His blue eyes watched her. Everything about her body language said someone had been pushed to her limits. Whatever happened to her was serious. He was willing to listen to her, if she needed to speak on it.

Cassandra has never been ABLE to speak on it before, but her eyes are less expressive today and her body is basically a wooden board compared to her usual physical chattiness. She wipes her forehead and her mouth, then walks a bit with Bruce. She's still a physical person, doesn't like to hold still. "Went to check on someone," okay, it's a speech. "Changed how my...brain works. Can't see what you're going to do anymore. Can't see anyone's moves, I'm blind..." her voice is still rough, ragged, like it doesn't get used much, but that right there is by far the most words she's ever said in her life. She didn't even understand the word 'I'm' before and now she's using it smoothly. But she seems exasperated by the change, from the way her fists flex repeatedly.

"How are you blind?" he asked. He knew she was using a metaphor. There were still many pieces to the puzzle that needed to figure out. "How did you get blinded?" his hand stayed extended to her, still allowing her a chance to take it if she wanted it. His blue eyes stayed focused on her body.

Cassandra Cain actually didn't...notice the hand extended towards her. She does now, almost belatedly, and takes Batman's hand quietly, as if uncertain how exactly to handle the situation. She rubs her feet together awkwardly, which is pretty much impossible.

Cassandra steps back, releasing the hand, into a combat stance. Technically perfect, but her eyes aren't tracking movement the way they've always done. She has spoken all her life with body language, and has never been any less than ten moves ahead in any fight, knowing what even the Batman would do before he starts to do it. "I can't...read moves anymore. Mutant changed my brain, gave me words. Took away MY language."

"How did they take your language away?" he was collecting the information slowly. Powers were a bit tricky to undo, and there was a question if the damage done was psychological or physical. Did the mutant alter the brain, how it responded, or did it create a mental block? "Do you know who did it and why?" Cassandra was trained in many things. She could have gotten some information. Whether or not it solved the puzzle remained to be seen. He helped her up but gave her distance to help out.

Cassandra Cain tries to think. It takes her a moment, then she lowers her arms from combat posture. "Monet, super mutant. She was angry I was not making sense with my words and made it happen. She said, she made my brain grow." She doesn't have a knowledge of neuroanatomy so that's as good as she can explain, but she runs her fingers through her straight black hair thoughtfully. "My head hurts."

Hearing that words made his eyebrows furrow. Bruce scowled a little, "Why did she get angry with you? Why did she go to that level?" Taking in the information that Cassandra said, "Let me run some tests on you. I want tos ee what she's done." He wanted to take an image of what her brain looked like. Any alterations would have been shown up on various tests, if anything was done to it.

Cassandra has no objections to being tested; she was given regular brain scans as a child and is pretty used to the process. She mentions little about the meeting with Monet aside from what she already has, her voice still sounding very rough and uncomfortable to use, but she seems to actually understand every word spoken to her by her responses.

Scans, when completed, show up on the bat-computer screen, a FMRI (functional magnetic resonance imaging scan) gives a 3-d picture beside the fmri scan taken when Batman allowed her to join the team. There are significant changes in the brain structure, most notably increases in the size of the superior and inferior temporal gyrii, the main centers of the brain responsible for semantic processing and language working memory. The medial temporal gyrus didn't even exist effectively before, now it's alive and well, but the increases in size to these areas are also increasing the overall size of the brain and adding pressure to the meninges, the thin layer of membrane that surrounds the brain and keeps it from touching bone. The swelling should have her crippled in pain, but she apparently is functioning somehow.

To make it simple, someone went into her head and twisted it into a shape that can grasp language with surgical precision, growing the parts of her brain that were missing, and it's adapting to the changes. But there are some issues, as the physical memory parts were altered to make room for the new arrivals. It's possible she may never have enough room to adapt, or the brain may rearrange itself to allow for body language reading over time. Or it may not, and she'll be normal forever.

Looking over all of the readouts Bruce looked down at Cassandra, "What they did work, but they're not a Doctor. Their power made them god-like with the ability to actually change the brain. The brain had physically changed. "Your brain is more like a normal one, but the changes would happen through time. Your brain would have a chance to evolve and adapt to time. They've changed your brain and you're being forced to adapt to everything. You're going through all of the pain because of the sudden physical changes," his blue eyes looked down at Cassandra, "How do you feel?"

Cassandra gets out of the scanner, sitting on the edge of the metal bed with her hands on her knees. "Feel fine, voices in my head. New." She touches the bruise on her face though, a bit of concern touching her features. "Didn't know how to...what to do. Can't dodge, but can still fight!" She looks suddenly terrified for some reason. "How...long, to become good again? How long training?"

"It'll take time. And there's no garuntee you'll be able to read bodies like you used to. You had that skill because of under-developed parts of your brain. They've been developed. You're going to have to start training again, as if you just started. With time it can go back to how it was," Bruce said firmly without mincing words or sugar-coating the facts. There was no garuntee it would come back, but she could re-train herself again.

Cassandra Cain gets off of the scanning bed, frowning as she listens. Actually listens. She grinds her teeth and takes off any sensors she had on, then gets to her feet and picks up her shirt. Her body says 'now' as clear as day as she waits for the Batman to start said training.

Walking toward the dojo Bruce opened the door and stepped inside. When Cassandra was in, he closed the door. It locked and he nodded, "Do you remember the basics? How everything began. How you keep your eyes on their eyes in the beginning. You can see how the body moves when you watch their eyes," he went out to punch her. "Did you see my arm move while you kept your focus on my eyes? This is the first step, Cassandra."

Cassandra Cain actually looks at the hand when it's coming at her. Her eyes widen and she looks at Batman's eyes, too late. Her body starts to do some kind of aborted defense from the punch but nothing really happens and it would hit her if the Batman let it. She's the equivalent of a rank amateur again, and the only defense that she has is a huge, amazing resistance to pain. "I...there are no basics," she tries to explain. "I see you moving, but I don't know what to do about it." She's never learned a single defensive move in her life, having never needed one. She just...wasn't there to be hit when people swung on her.

Stopping the punch Bruce stared at Cassandra. "Let's begin with basics," he said. Slowly he went through the motions of an overhead block very slowly. "Mimic my motions, watch how I hold my hands and legs. See how I'm holding them?" he asked. Flashbacks went through his mind about the first times he trained Dick, Jason, Tim and Barbara. How each of them had to be taken through the basics. All of them were different degrees of green in their own right. Now it was finally Cassandra's turn. "Do you see how I am holding myself?"

Cassandra mimics Bruce's motions quickly. She picks up the motion without too much trouble, just is really having issues with confidence. She answers by doing the motion, still choosing physical over verbal. The high block, done smoothly on the second or third try. She actually picks up things quickly, that hasn't changed, and after half an hour Cassandra would have the basic concept on all the blocking systems that Bruce wants to teach her. She LOOKS overwhelmed and acts like she's scared to try and do them, but her body is learning at a reasonable speed.

Of course, considering that she used to pick up new styles like drinking water, she's acting like a mentally damaged child compared to her usual rate and this could be problematic and still doesn't like talking even if she knows how to do so.

"Basic punches, One two. On three, two, one," and Bruce did the two punch combo. These were easy punches that could have been blocked with quick deflections. He was keeping things basic and simple. Nothing too complex for Cassandra yet. All of that confidence had to be rebuilt. His eyes were watching her intently as the first two punches were deflected and he did them again. Then again, eventually he stopped giving her audio cues to when they were goingto be thrown. She had to react to them based on her training. That's how confidence was built up.

Cassandra does the blocks well enough, but she's doing them on command. The moves aren't a problem for her; her basic issue is visible very quickly. She can't decide to block on her own, so she actually just stands there and gets hit when Bruce stops telling her to do it. She makes a real, serious attempt to block after a few swings but it's so late that a white belt could have hit her. Her only response? "Again." The only word she uses, using her frustration as a tool to push her past this problem. "Again."

When she got hit, Bruce held back a little. Pain would have been there, but no bruising. Enough just to be a teacher. As the words left her lips, Bruce began again. Like before there was audio cues, just to get her going in the routine. "No one on the street will give you cue except for their body language. Remember this," the cues stopped and he was leaving her to defend herself based on body language cues. Cassandra was going to have to learn. She had all of the tools available, but had to learn how to use them differently.

Cassandra gets hit again. And again. She's making the effort, of course. Her arms come up, across, and she tries a high block when a middle block would have been correct, or misses entirely. Actually gets a block one time, her arm coming across at about half her normal speed, but her face doesn't change at a small success. Misses the next one, is late on half a dozen others. She seems unable to predict and mostly ends up flailing and actually tries hitting back once. The counter-strike is ...pretty good actually. Half power, speed mediocre and the aim was off but it probably would have hurt if it weren't aimed at the Batman.

Rolling with the counter he hid a smile. The punches kept coming at her. He would drill her until one of two things happened: It was perfect or several hours had passed. When the time slipped away he eventually stopped throwing punches, "Good job for today. You're learning. If I could teach Tim, I can teach someone with training from the best assassins int he world. Get something to eat, drink and shower, you've earned them. Pizza's in the fridge," the pizza was from the other night. Jason and Carrie were over. Bruce ordered pizza for everyone, including the Bat-Family members that weren't there in person. So, yes Cassandra had her favorite waiting on it if she didn't know it already.

Cassandra Cain stands up quietly, listening to Bruce. She's sweating from the mental effort, given that this was a very light workout for her body. She listens, her face impassive and a little bit angry. Just a little. She looks at the exit, the way upstairs to the pizza. Then her eyes look back at the dojo wistfully. She's made her decision, and it's likely one that the Batman would understand. "I can't go patrol?" she asks, knowing what the answer is probably going to be.

"Can you stop a punch? Can you stop a knife?" Bruce asked honestly. His blue eyes watched her. Breathing hard, his eyes were focused on the woman. "Can you counter each without hesitation? When you can answer 'Yes,' and know it to be true, then you can. You're not ready," he wasn't trying to be too hard but nothing was sugar coated. Walking to the exit he put a hand on her shoulder, "You'll be ready. You just need more training."

"Then I train," she responds. She doesn't shrug off the hand this time, needing the comfort more than she realizes. She doesn't move to leave the dojo though, instead heading for the holo-studio. She seems driven to fix this NOW, patience not being one of her options. She pauses at the door, looking back at the Bat, and opens her mouth to ask. "How long to be...like you? Not just 'good enough'. Like you."

"First you eat. This is the next lesson. Everyone has their limits. You're allowed to have them when not on patrol. Out on the field you do not have that luxury, but here you do. Even Batman has to eat. Eat, wash up, relax, tomorrow will be harder." Bruce started to walk away then the question came out. He looked at her, "It will take time. IF you push yourself too hard, it will take you longer. You have all the tools to be like me. You just need to apply them differently. That will take time. If you're lucky, you'll be back to where you were in a month or two," he watched her trying to see the reaction. "I have faith in you and your abilities. Don't doubt yourself right now because I don't. This is a set back and nothing more, got it?"

Cassandra Cain stands in the doorway quietly. With luck. Maybe. We don't know. It's what he means. Slow, patient. She closes her eyes a moment, then heads for the showers. If she was the person that she used to be, she'd be talking up a storm with those motions. Some things never change. Then again, some things do.