2015-01-26 - Birthday Girl

Cassandra Cain returns to the Clocktower having picked up dinner. She always likes using the credit card and wasting Batman's money, even if it is routed through a bunch of companies, but she has found ALL the good chinese food places in both Bludhaven and Gotham City. Tonight she comes in through the skylight in full civvies carrying two parcels and a small package. (Her full civvies really don't differ much from combat gear to be honest.)

It smells divine; she obviously picked up a good selection but likely only got chopsticks, believing that silverware is a heathen device when eating Chinese. It should be noted that the two parcels are normal for chinese food take-out. The small package is not, and is wrapped in brown paper and likely not edible.

Dick Grayson is at the watchtower. He is not exactly sure why but Cassandra mentioned dinenr and really that was enough. Also he has not seen Babs in a while and any excuse to visit is a good one, he is standing near her remenising about the good old days when Cassie enter, 'Rememebr that time with the Mad Hatter..." He laughs a little then waves to Cassandra, "Hey there Cass, smells great. What did you get?" He looks over at her. "What's in th package?"

Barbara sits in the chair listening to Dick. Although she's also got one eye on the laptop, and is tapping something into it. If there's something Oracle is good at, it's multitasking. Today, it's checking the relay into the SHIELD database. She did say she wouldn't actually hack into them .... well unless necessary. But the relay is not actually hacking into them - it's what she'd use if they ever needed to. Always be prepared, right? She looks over at Cass. "Hey Cassandra."

Cassandra Cain settles to the ground, detatching her line and remotely closing the skylight. You only need to have some supervillain follow you in the easily accessed open route once before you learn -that- lesson. Setting the food down on the table nearby, she flips the little package in Nightwing's direction so he can catch it, shrugging.

Popping open one of the parcels, she starts to put out dinner with a nicely happy expression on her face. "Do not...know," she says unconcernedly. "Random guy...handed to me. He meant no...harm." And she goes on opening the food. Cassandra Cain smiles to Oracle, offering kung pao chicken.

Cassandra Cain has not been known to be the most logical person. She relies on her body sense a lot.

Dick Grayson catches the package and looks at it, "Huh." he then examines it closely to make sure it will not explode or something like that if he trys to open it "Random guy and no harm." He smiles, "Sounds likethe start of a mystery."

Barbara rolls over to Nightwing and takes the package from Nightwing before he opens it. Then puts it down on the table. "Er... should I mention the amount of potential security breaches involved in just opening a mysterious package that a random stranger hands to Cassandra on the street?" She continues. "We could also email a certain Nigerian Prince who left you all his money, and rename your email address password to 'password.' It's almost like you werent trained by the most paranoid man on the planet, Dick."

Cassandra Cain is opening the rice and digging in, looking fairly unconcerned. The room is filling with the smells of dinner, which is probably not nice to talk about to the people who can't have chinese tonight so I'm gonna move on.

Cassandra pokes Dick with her chopsticks and adds, "Yeah," adding to Barbara's critique of his security skills. Then goes back to eating. She does however lean over to look at the box a bit. "He was...not dangerous. Little confused."

Dick Grayson defends himssself as he starts to dish up his food, "I did not open it, justlooked at it." he then points out, "Besides Bruce would open it. He would talk about ihow hdangerous it was to and how we shouldn't but an hour later his couriousity would get the best of him and it would be opened."

Barbara smiles and looks at Dick. "You looked like you were going to open it." She takes the box and rolls off to the Clocktower's Bomb Defusing and Scanning Containment Unit. Yeah. And Bruce is the one she says is paranoid. "Well... my curiosity is saying use the dozens of security protocol devices to see what's nside before opening it." She taps a few keys on the machinery, and turns on the Terahertz generator. All the usefulness of an X-ray without any of that nasty deadly radiation.

Cassandra Cain wanders over behind Barbara, a dish full of stuff she's stuffing into her face in her hands. She looks curious for the first time tonight, mostly in the equipment, as she memorizes the key pattern Barbara uses to make the machine scan a possible bomb. Might be useful someday. The first thing that shows up is paper, cardboard, and more paper. Then nothing. The core of the box appears to be a slightly heavy nothing. There is, as well, a sheet of paper sitting on top of the unscannable nothing that shows up clearly in the scans with some writing on it. It has 'happy birthday' scribbled on it in poor handwriting.

Cassandra ignores it, being more interested in her noodles.

Oh He was so going to open it but he will never admit that now. It is a pride thing. he sit near Cassandra and starts to eat. "So how have you ben he asks Cassnadra?" He looks over at the caning proccess but does not pester barbara with questions until she is done.

Barbara peers at the image. Disturbing that it can't scan accurately what's in the box. Then reads the paper, and looks at Cassandra. "Cassandra - couple of questions. First, where exactly did this stranger hand you the package? And second... is today your birthday?"

Cassandra Cain looks up from her noodles, over at Oracle, then answers Dick. "Been...busy," she says with her usual eloquence. She makes a punchy motion to explain. The usual then, out fighting bad guys. Then to Oracle she says, "Chinese food...place. Do not know my...birthday. Would have to ask...father. Why?"

Dick Grayson looks at Cassandra, "You don't know your own birthday?" he then rememebrs her upbringing and just nods, even the Bat celbrated birthdays, gruffly and all scowly but stil lthere was cake and Alfred with a party hat and noise maker. He looks over to barbar, "Sounds like and interesting package."

Barbara Gordon looks at the package, then at the name on the chinese food bags. Then does a quick hack into the traffic cam and security cameras on that block for the last 20 minutes, to see if there's an image of the person who handed Cassandra the package. "Well, assuming the writing's correct, this is from either your father or someone else who knows your birthday. So... either one of the best assassins-for-money in the world. Or one of the best assassins-for-...whatever it is Shiva wants... in the world. So yeah. lets handle this carefluly?"

Cassandra Cain looks at the two as they talk, then puts down her food suddenly. She only knows one of her parents, but theoretically either one would know her birthday and mention of her father has gotten her full attention. Attested by the chopsticks she just absentmindedly imbedded in the tabletop. Then she goes to the package, her face in full battle mode, and carefully opens the box revealing the shine of metal. There is a knife inside; a thin, long blade that is blatantly designed for insertion and twisting. Assassin's blade. Oh, and a happy birthday note.

Dick Grayson lookso ver at the knife and says, "Well not what i would expect for a birthday giift but not completely surprising." he grins, "I f I had known I would have gotten oyu something a bit more suited to the occasion." he reaches over to give her a half hug, "But Happy Birthday Cass."

Barbara Gordon looks at the 'present.' "Yeah. Happy Birthday. Um... not to be a downer, but should I be worried that this might mean your father could be in Gotham?" She looks at the image of the person brought up on the cam. Homeless, no real record at all.

Cassandra Cain doesn't pull away from the half-hug, and doesn't look like 'birthday girl' really either. She picks the knife up and tests it against the table. It slices cleanly through it and anything else it touches. Her eyes flicker around the room, and her jaw clenches. "Am NOT an assassin," she says in as clear english as she's ever used. "Barbara, do you have....some tools I can...use?"

Dick Grayson looks at hte cuts the knife makes and shakes his head a bit, 'No one that knows you thinks you are Cassandra." he then says, "Whoever is in Gotham we cna handle them." he says with the confidence he always has.

Cassandra Cain says, "Batman says, Father is in jail. I should maybe check."

Barbara Gordon nods. "Good idea. Also, you do know there's one other person who is guaranteed to know when your birthday is. Other than your father. Though the assassin's blade thing does heavily seem to lean toward your father, who's an assassin. Don't need a detective for that leap."

Cassandra Cain grinds her teeth a little more. She says, "I promised to...." She pauses, the pause being significant. Not a problem with speaking, just thought of what exactly to call it. "To visit him, anyway." Then she turns toward the area with all the tools, to see if she can find a vise. And a sledgehammer. "Do we have a...cutting torch?" She flips the knife in the air meaningfully, catching it with the ease of a born artist.

Dick Grayson looks at Cassandra and smiles, "Changing the balade?" He then says, "Well i suppose that is better then regifting." he attempts his normal humor. He then says, "Menawhile we should keep out eyes open." he says, "After all that homeless man knew a bit too much."

Cassandra Cain finds a vice in the other room, putting the knife in it, blade UP. She says, from the other room, "I am NOT an Assassin, Father," as she tightens the vice. Then she picks up the sledgehammer from the corner of the room, hefting it for weight. "Will not be, and," she swings the hammer with both hands, putting all of her ...considerable strength behind it, and slamming it into the side of the blade with resounding force!

And the head of the hammer snaps off the end of the sledgehammer's handle, flying past her head and getting stuck in a wall, as Cassandra's hands sting. The knife is unmarred in any way. She stares at it with unguarded hatred in her eyes, and turns to pick up the blowtorch.

"Can not make me. Dad. Not...anymore." And the torch lights up in her hands.

Dick Grayson watches her try to mar the balde to no success, "Maybe you should have barbara naalyse it. It does not seem like any normal blade." he points out trying to be helpful.

Barbara Gordon blinks when the sledgehamer breaks against the knife. Then Cassandra steps it up a notch with a blowtorch. "Um.. yeah. That should not have happened with a blade that thin, Cassandra. Mind if I do some metallurgic analysis?"

Cassandra Cain takes a moment with the blowtorch trying to destroy the knife. After she is sweating over the blade, the torch working it over, she pauses. Turns off the torch. Touches the blade. Then she throws her hands up in the air, picks it up, and walks over to Barbara, where she offers the weapon, handle first. "It is still...cold. Yes...please. And I would....LOVE to know where my...father got that...metal."

Dick Grayson looks at the metal, "Yes I think we would all want that answer, and if there are more of those floating around out there." he then says, "I wonder if ti is related to the claws that one X-Man has?" He mused incorrectly.

There was something definitely familiar about that metal to Barbara. Something from when she was doing work with the JLA. "I do have a theory... but it just would bring up all sorts of questions of how your father (I'm assuming your father, at least).... got the metal." She takes the knife from Cassandra and rolls over to the computer room where she keeps the metallurgic analyzer. "Hardness - off the charts. electrically conductive, heat absorbing superalloy..." She checks out the printout. "I... I think this is Nth Metal, Cassandra, Dick. Thanagarian Nthe Metal."

Cassandra Cain doesn't look terribly enlightened by the reveal, unfortunately. She puts her hands on her hips, eyeing the knife suspiciously, and asks, "What is that?" with her usual aplomb. Apparently she doesn't read files. Of course not, that would make things easy. "I do not know Thanagarian. .....or nth metal."

Dick Grayson says, "Thangarians are a race with advanced technology, Hawkmanis connected to them." he informs, "So iare a few of the space farring villians." He hten says," Knows for their militaristic nature." He adds. "Not sure about the metal itself." he admits."

Barbara Gordon rubs the bridge of her nose. Yeah, she should probably explain what Nth Metal is, since only a handful of people on the planet probably know. "Nth Metal is a Thanagarian superalloy with a few rather special properties. For one thing, for all intensive purposes, it's unbreakable once no longer in a liquid state. For another.... it seems to be able to absorb all sorts of energy. Electricity, heat, cold. And probably the most interesting thing about it? It seems to counter and interrupt magic and magical effects somehow."

Cassandra Cain listens to the descriptions, her head spinning. She eyes the blade, her tactical mind realizing possible uses and ways this could enhance her arsenal. "I could...use it for disarms...pin to walls.." she theorizes, then she remembers who gave it to her. And doesn't freak out. "Family always...knows you..best.." It sounds like she might still be angry, but not actively violent.

Dick Grayson nods to Cassnadra, 'That is true but don't forget we are your family too." he walks over to her and gives her a one armed shoulder squeeze if she allows it.

Barbara Gordon hands the blade over to Cassandra. "Definitely useful. Still, you should be cautious. David Cain isnt exactly the type of person who I'd describe as having a 'giving personality.' Still, happy birthday Cassandra. This might be hard to top. Nothing says happy birthday like deadly anti-magical weaponry."

Cassandra Cain smiles. It isn't a nice smile. She lets her eyes glance to the window, staring into the night, and says, "Will...thank him," as she gets hugged by Dick. Again. Happy first birthday, Cassandra.