2014-06-13 - Talk Time with Monet

Monet looks around the city she was in. She was asked not to fly in Gotham by her father - he was thinking of starting a new company here for the St. Croix Corporation and asked his favorite child if she could do him a favor and go to the building he was thinking of buying.

Ugh. Buy a building here? Start a business here? Fine. The property is probably inexpensive. But having to wallow around down here? It would be so much easier to do flyby instead so she didn't have to interact with the 'colorful' inhabitants of Gotham.

A homeless person comes up to her, smelling of... stuff... and carrying a bottle of Jack Daniels. "Spare a quarter, lady?"

She scrunches her nose. "If you promise the first thing you do is go somewhere, take a shower, take another shower after that, then still avoid me, I'll give you $20." she says, still walking.

Homeless people. Bleh.

Black Bat, in her night-coloured Bat outfit, is on a hunt. Her screen suggests that the person she's looking for is around here and she didn't really listen to the details when she was being briefed. She frowns when she sees the target walking along the street and perches on a window ledge as she gets a good look, craning her neck to see.

Nothing to give her away save for her thoughts, she's deathly silent in her pursuit of the target woman as she considers how to approach.

The homeless man seems quite happy at the prospect of $20. "Sure thing lady! Bless you! Bless you so very mu-" he starts, looking like he's about to hug her.

Monet takes a step back. "Yes yes - if you touch me, no money." She takes out a twenty from a rather full purse and hands it over. "Go away now, okay?"

She then heads off again. "It's like beggar children in Bangladesh or something." she says to herself, taking a shortcut through an alley to get to the building.

The body language of the woman is quite chatty to the girl above. Black Bat runs along the wall and grabs a gutter, shinnying up it to a point where she can perch. She shakes her head slightly as she gets a bunch of information that's not a lot of use and decides to take a more direct approach.

Black Bat was never good at subtle. She lets go of the wall and uses her cloak to slow her fall enough to land with a crunch of boots on concrete at the end of the alley that Monet is traversing, up ahead of her, and settles into a shadowy silhouette. The alley is generally uninhabited, unless you count the rodentia.

Monet stops when she's halfway through and sees the black-costumed figure jump down into the mouth of the alley. She rolls her eyes, "Oh what now..." She puts her hand on her hip with exasperation. "I hope this isnt some mugging attempt or ..." She looks Cassandra over. "Costumed fight thing."

Black Bat stands up with her mask and batsuit. At least the bat logo should be recognizable, as she responds to the questions by lifting both of her hands, palm-out. She shakes her head, her body language not suggesting aggression.

"No..." she says, on the off chance that the woman isn't getting the message.

"Talk," the odd voice says from the dark clothed asian girl in the shadows. She has no weapons in her hands as she waits patiently for the woman to decide how to respond to her, and bends her knees just slightly in case of an attack.

Monet raises an eyebrow and walks over. "Oh yeah. I did hear about the vigilante group in this city. A lot of it was rumor though." She peers. "So what would you like to talk about? I'm rather busy you know." she says, putting her hand on her hip, tapping her foot idly.

There's a flash of recognition as Black Bat remembers this woman. The tapping foot is unmistakeable. She narrows her eyes, then takes a breath and says in her slightly raspy voice, "Why Gotham? Batman..." and she pauses, squinching her eyes a moment. Then she continues with "Talk...why in..." and she makes a fist as she fights for the words.

She seems to be getting slightly angry as she attempts to make the necessary conversation with Monet. "Why you h...here!" That last one had an air of triumph about it as the girl gives a grin and stops using her mouth for something it's obviously not built to do.

Monet looks at Black Bat for a moment and the angry, broken english, followed by the smile. "Why 'am' I here. Present indicatives... makes you sound a lot less like a foreigner or a caveman." She looks her over again. "I'm not sure why it would be any of your business why I -am- here, though? Do the vigilantes in this town pay a visit to every non-resident?"

Cassandra Cain catches perhaps ten percent of the words being used by Monet, but she understands the gist from her own language. She lowers her hands quietly and loses the smile, her eyes flickering over the woman as she reads none of the answers to her questions, and she sighs. Then she looks at the sky a moment, a very obvious plea to some higher power to make this work out, and tries again.

"Why you here?" Cassandra repeats, not adding in the correction because she didn't really get it anyway. "Strong, I sent talk danger?" She's actually getting less understandable, since she's not concentrating on formulating her sentences anymore. She stops at that, pausing as she visibly tries to figure out what SHE just said, mouthing the words silently to herself.

Monet takes a deep breath. "Why -are- you here. Please, you can enunciate a bit better." She listens as there's more broken english. "Oh you poor dear, you barely understand what I'm saying. Apparently you spend so much time fighting crime that you didn't learn to talk..." she says, not realizing how correct she is - she thought it was a mocking commentary. "Or you learned how to speak by watching reruns of Tarzan." She says, "And now you're not even making sense at all."

She pauses and looks her over. "How about I just read your mind to see what you're attempting to articulate so wonderfully." Another mocking comment. Then she peers at Cassandra a bit more. "Oh, you're brain damaged. That explains that. Odd type of brain damage though. Seems more like it's very superficial with the neural pathways. Hmmmm I might be able to... Let's see..."

Then she reaches into Cassandra's mind and starts sorting out parts, pushing from the left hemisphere into the right hemisphere, putting up a little wall for the synapses.

Cassandra Cain's head rocks back as she's manipulated with a precision that most surgeons dream of seeing one day before they die. Her eyes open wide as she stares at the woman in front of her, her world changing irrevocably, now and forever.

Cassandra drops to her knees, then to her hands and knees as things alter in her brain. Her superior temporal gyrus is tickled into growth. Her middle temporal gyrus is literally brought to life, it being effectively unused her entire life.

But mostly, small changes tear through her mind like a thunderstorm.

Conversation, talking with the body, a kicking stance to the high kick, a bent leg and the sudden motion to a blurred, spread leg stance...straight back...of lifting her right hand and seeing the ... the ....the what? ...motion... .... ...wh..what?

TALK

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Monet heads over to her and helps Cassandra back to her feet. "I didn't think that would affect your motor coordination, but there is a lot of new work going on in part of your brain. It was woefully underdeveloped. Now say with me. Say this. 'I want to talk to you. What are you doing here?'

Cassandra Cain brushes off the hand trying to help her to her feet, the thought 'I'm fine' in her head as she gets up with an unconscious ease that ballet dancers would envy. She pauses, blinking, then she THINKS 'Who said that?' in her head, her mouth trying to form words. She almost staggers; an action that seems completely out of place in someone with her inborn center of balance and breeding. Her mouth moves, but the sounds coming out are still rough. Not unexpected, she still hasn't used the vocal cords often, but they'll improve now.

Monet taps her foot as she's brushed off. "Fine. At least say what you were asking again when I went through the trouble of fixing your learning disorder. I've only done that a couple of times for other people, though usually dyslexia. Yours was a lot more severe. Anyway... 'I want to talk. What are you doing here?' Say that."

Cassandra Cain goes like this. "I wahnt to...talk," and thinks, why is this so hard? "What," she breathes, then says, "What ahre you doing here?" I still can't speak, why is that? I was supposed to come find out why the super-mutant was in town and see if she was a threat. Simple. Wow, there are a lot of words.

Monet answers. "Well - to answer what you're saying, I'm here to scout a new business location for one of my father's companies. Not that it's really any of your business." She looks her over, reading her thoughts. "And to answer what you're thinking, you still can't speak well because, even though I fixed the synaptic problems in your mind which were preventing you from being able to form words easily, you don't actually have a lot of -practice- at it. It's like when I helped this dyslexic boy in Los Angeles, he didn't start reading War and Peace right away. It just meant he was going to be able to have that opportunity eventually. Once he learned how to read again." She rolls her eyes, "And no, I'm not a threat ... " She makes air quotes "Not a threat, per se. I suppose I am a threat in that I'm so much better than most people, so I'm a threat to people's egos. But it's not as if I'm going to be starting fights with anyone who isnt attempting one with me. I do like that term of 'super mutant' though. Appropriate term, if a little egotistical. Then again, it DOES suit me, personally. Usually people just say mutant.'"

Monet takes a moment before asking. "Now is there anything else or can I leave without more bothersome questions?"

Black Bat listens, absolutely enthralled with the fact that she's understood every. freaking. word. of what Monet has just said to her. 'I never had any thoughts like this,' she thinks, mostly to herself. Shakes it off and rubs the back of her head, a slight headache the only negative aftereffect of the major alteration in her skull. "Thank you," she says, having no reason to stop Monet from doing whatever it is she's headed to do now. Scouting a business location for one of her father's companies. Wow. She kind of stands there a moment, then gets out of Monet's path.

Monet smiles politely. "Thank you. And you're welcome for making sure your mind is now able to comprehend what I'm saying. It was getting iritating. Like they say, a mind is a terrible thing to waste. So stop wasting it now that you no longer have an excuse." She pats Cassandra's shoulder lightly, then walks off.

Cassandra Cain watches Monet leave, her body leaning back against the wall of the building and her mind far more busy than her body. She runs the fingers of her left hand through her straight black hair as she applies names to things like fingers, and straight black hair. It's not until the last second when Monet is just vanishing when she looks the woman over and actually thinks a moment.

Something's off.