1673/Nightwing the Slacker

Nightwing the Slacker
Date of Scene:	26 July 2017
Location:	Batcave, Gotham City
Synopsis:	Alfred and Cassandra help Nightwing recover, and deal with Bruce's demands.
Cast of Characters:	Nightwing, Alfred Pennyworth, Batgirl (Cain)

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Nightwing has posed:
    In and out of consciousness, Dick Grayson's been spending the last day and some floating back and forth into the land of the living and away from it, at the least getting some good rest. Though the last few hours he's been awake, semi-functional. He's even picked up the tablet display that Batman had left for him. Of course it was locked on the 'homework' assignment the man had given him, but it was better than sitting there in the med bay... and staring at the cavern walls.
    He shakes his head as he holds the tablet up, frowning to himself and pushing a few of the images through their paces, spotting the differences and tell-tale signs of what he has to discover in each image. Eventually he scowls, tossing the small computer away onto the tray next to his bed, frowning to himself and crossing his arms over his chest.

Alfred Pennyworth has posed:
     Before even the doors of the cave open the heavenly smell of freshly made soup begins to fill the air. Doors swing open, and in walks Alfred dressed for the occasion with a nurse's cap on his head, an apron on, and a tray filled with piping hot soup in a reheat-able container.

     "Master Grayson, I do hope you've saved plenty of room for some of my mothers famous soup." He's in high spirits at the recovery Nightwing is making already from what could have easily been a lethal runin with a dangerous set of foes. "Trust me when I say for once you may wish to enjoy this at least warm, before you have to reheat it like someone around here."

     "Though knowing you lot, I'd be better served making a fresh gazpacho, as to avoid having you imbibe lukewarm soup." He steps over a small raised section and into the area where Dick happens to be resting. Looking around the piping hot soup he offers what could be considered a smile from behind that rather reserved face of his. "Of course I understand if you'd rather I put this in an ice box first."

Nightwing has posed:
    The young man's mood is dark, has been since his last meeting with /Him/. The eldest Robin frowns as his eyes follow the approach of the older man, watching the soup container with a measure of curiosity but seemingly content to let matters proceed apace. "Thanks, Alfred."
    He leans forward and peers at the container, then his nostrils flare as he takes in the satisfying scent. He can't help it but smile a touch, just a little bit almost grudgingly. But then he smirks and offers his own response, "No fine, I'll enjoy it warm. The highlight of my day." He reaches over for the tray next to the bed and pulls it over, offering a suitable place for the deployment of said soup.
    He clears some space then asks, "How is Damian doing?"

Batgirl (Cain) has posed:
    Sometimes, you just have to take the small victories, in life. One of those victories is that Cassandra no longer devours all of Alfred's food before Batman (or Tim, or Damian) can get to it herself, or hides it away for fear it might disappear, and she might not get more.
    She slips out of the private showers, her short hair wet, plastered to her head. And, she's wearing little more than a sports bra, and a pair of exercise shorts. But, she's not naked. Another small victory.
    She pads, barefoot, over to the dinner tray and begins to help herself to the cuisine provided. Food, more important than greeting either Alfred, or Dick.

Alfred Pennyworth has posed:
     "Dancing hapily through the flowers, and playing catch on the front lawn." Alfred states, with a light smile before sighing, as it becomes clear neither him, nor Greyson are buying it. "Young Master Damian is up in his room sulking, after a... chilling discussion with master Wayne, the two had a bit of a falling out over the whole thing."

     The soup itself is a heavenly take on the all time Scottish classic: Cock-A-Leekie Soup, made entirely from scratch and prepared to perfection using a secret recipe that flairs the nostrils and cleans the pallet.

     "I will say however physically, the young master is on route to a full recovery." Affirms the elderly man as he adjusts the tray while Greyson takes the bowl. There's very little if any actual heat loss through the bowl, the reasoning for why becoming clear rather quickly.

     The bowl itself is lined with the same fire-retardant material used for working around volcano's making the bowl cool to the touch and able to retain temperature for much longer then traditional bowl counterparts. Even if it does look a bit like Alfred went senile and put soup in a helmet.

     Thankfully there's enough to feed four, which is a good thing considering the simple fact that the two of them could probably eat for six if given the chance. The youth of today and their needs for fine dining.

Nightwing has posed:
    Of course Dick is alright with that, though he does make a play at Cass as he grins and makes a small 'grrr' with a hint of baring his teeth. But she can read the lack of sincerity in that manner, and the hint of jovial humor that spawns it. Though for him, he settles in for the soup and just takes a spoon to it, sipping at times and only rarely slurping when he gets a fairly large hunk.
    "Yeah, Bruce is on the warpath." He frowns and takes up a bit of the broth and sips on it. "The whole thing was my fault, and I admitted it. But I don't know what it is." He sits up and holds his spoon at a distance a little as his thoughts wander to what passed between him and the Batman. "Whenever we get in a room together... all my well-reasoned arguments and ordered thoughts go out the window."
    He sighs and shakes his head, "He has me doing homework, and says I'm not to leave here until I can beat him in a fight. It's like the last decade never happened."

Batgirl (Cain) has posed:
    Cassandra takes a bowl of soup, and, eating it slowly as she walks, she heads over to the Batcomputer, saying nothing to Dick, or to Alfred yet. She registers the insincerity, but it would also be true to say that Cassandra, even if his threat to 'take her food' was genuine did not feel threatned in the least. She had, afterall, taken him easily on the rooftop. And now, perhaps for the first time, too, Dick can see the scars covering her back, and her midriff. Old scars, long since healed over. Her trainers were not as kind as Dick's.
    She stands in front of the computer. "Search." The next word comes. "Batgirl." Then, "Fight. Batman."
    Several video files come up, and she says, "Play."
    And, the video of the first time Batgirl sparred with Batman comes up on the video, showing that while Batman never showed a measure of surprise, just how Batgirl held him off. Granted -- her martial arts skills are probably superior to Dick's in the same fashion his acrobatics and flexibility are to her own. But, she's trying to help. In her own way.

Alfred Pennyworth has posed:
     Alfred goes silent watching over towards the massive bat-computer screen. His stance is a calm one, with a small towel draped over his arm just in case anyone happens to have a moments lapse. He doesn't exactly want anyone to add burns to their list of moderate to severe injuries. It's really the humanitarian in him.

     "Master Bruce is not in the best of ways as of late Master Greyson." Alfred admits after a moment, fully turned to face the monitor. "I believe if you just give it time, he'll be back to his old self." He pauses for a long moment eyes fixated on the motions and movements on the screen. "He's just worried about the both of you. I'm afraid he couldn't handle another Jason."

Nightwing has posed:
    "I understand that, Alfred." He looks over towards Cass as she shows the display and looks up towards the movements of the two combatants. She can read his features, the way his eyes narrow, the focused brow. He may play at times at being inattentive or happy go lucky, but the way he deciphers the movements on the screen, the way he gauges the conflict between her and Bruce... he is taking it in fully.
    A small shake of his head is given when the video goes into loop and he looks back at the older man. "Really, I do. I mean I know I messed up. I should have assumed the worst would happen. I let myself think this would be an easy thing, a drug bust, something to help break Damian. And then it went south and I had this horrendous image of something happening to Damian and..."
    He shakes his head as those words trail off, with him holding his hands up. "But then he gets in the room and all of a sudden I'm fifteen again."

Batgirl (Cain) has posed:
    "Yes." Cassandra seems to agree with Nightwing, even though she wasn't there. She moves back to the food, refilling the soup which she's already devoured. She refills, carefully. She looks to Alfred, offers the butler an appreciative smile that even touches her nut-brown eyes, then her gaze is turning to Nightwing. "Fight."
    It's hard to tell with Cassandra. She has a flat tone, no matter what she says, unless she's -very- upset, when she speaks, generally. This time is no different. The flat, dead tone makes it hard to intepret what she's saying. If she's agreeing with Dick, as if the older young man had not realized that he needed to fight Batman, or as if she were imparting information that Nightwing were unaware of.
    But, she felt it was important enough to talk. So. There's that.

Alfred Pennyworth has posed:
     Alfred waits silently while the two exchange words. A few nods are given but over akll he's simply allowing the silence to set in, to allow them to vent. It's really what he does best. Well that and... a lot of other things from back in the day.

     "Hate to be the one to burst this bubble, but if you can't bring yourself to fight him" Alfred waiting for seconds to be gotten before saying what's on his mind. "What are you going to do the next time a brain parasite takes him over?" The fact that it's a valid statement could say more about Batman, or the world they happen to live in. It's really gotten to be a much scarier world since those first days.

Nightwing has posed:
    A look is given between the two of them as Nightwing takes a deep breath. He nods towards Cass and murmurs, "I know. I know." He includes Alfred in that look as he sets down his spoon with a faint clink. "We have fought before. It wouldn't be the first time." A small shake of his head is given as he lifts a hand to rub at the back of his neck thoughtfully, wincing a little at the stitches.
    "And chances are we'd argue about who won and when." Dick waves a hand, "This could be his messed up way of trying to make sure I'm ready to step in in case anything happens. But when he pitches it..."
    There's another pause and he murmurs, "Look, guys. Don't worry about me. I'll do what I need to and get things settled. Damian needs your help more than me. Though..." He grins a bit, "Don't skimp on the soup and food, Alfred." He grins a bit.

Batgirl (Cain) has posed:
    Cassandra turns her head, and points to the sparring ring, then looks back to Nightwing. Another way she can help. Beat the snot out of him, so when he fights Batman, it's not as bad. Kind of like going to bat in a baseball game and adding a weight in practice so when you walk up to the plate the bat feels lighter and you can swing it 'harder'. Same thing, right?
    She looks back, expectant, at Nightwing. If he is ready. She has had her fill of soup.

Alfred Pennyworth has posed:
     "I will make absolutely certain that the young Master Damian is well fed." Alfred comments sounding almost lightly offended at the notion otherwise. His own interests still in keeping this family alive as long as possible.

     Setting the towel down onto the table, Alfred begins to pull off his jacket, setting it on the back of a chair, and rolling his shoulders. "Of course if you'd like a more down to earth brawl, I've still got it in me." A few quick jabs into the air make like a bit of shadow boxing as Alfred lightly steps in place.

Nightwing has posed:
    "What, now?" Nightwing looks over at Cass and then looks towards Alfred. He lifts a hand to the back of his neck and grimaces a bit, but then again... if he wasn't ready chances are Alfred would stop the whole thing right then and there. He gives a nod to Cass and tells her, "Alright, give me a little bit of time to get ready." He pulls back the covers. At least he's not wearing a smock, just t-shirt and boxers for now. He swings his legs over off the side of the bed before he looks to Alfred.
    "I think we'll be alright, Alfred. If Damian's in a bad way he could probably use your attention. And hey..." A small smile lights his features, "Tell him I said hey, and that everything is cool. Ok?"

Batgirl (Cain) has posed:
    Cassandra looks to Alfred, curiously, as he does his manuevers. She nods to the man, spry for his age certainly. But then she is simply hopping into the ring by easily jumping over the top rope and moving to the other end, to wait patiently for Nightwing. By the way she waits, her stance, she will not be taking it easy on Dick, just because he's been injured. Batman wouldn't.

Alfred Pennyworth has posed:
     Alfreds shoulders slouch for a moment before he simply clears his throat. A few steps back over see him throwing back on his jacket. "Ah, yes. Of course Master Greyson." Calm and collected as ever, as he blinks a few times. Of course they wouldn't want to spar with him.

     Alfred takes the now empty bowl, and places the lid back over it collecting the two bowls that had been used already. He's quick for his age balancing the bowls on one hand. "Now, Miss Cain, you realize if he breaks his stitches I will be very cross with you."

     A stern nod in her direction, a warning on multiple levels as the elderly man makes his way for the exit of the bat-cave not exactly one to stick around while a man makes a mess of himself at the hands of his better (condition wise at least.)

Nightwing has posed:
    Doing the slow sore walk of a person who is definitely way ore unhappy that he's letting on, Dick Grayson wanders towards the small alcove where he can change with at least some modicum of privacy. He takes a bit longer than is entirely necessary as he'll stand there at the mirror, his silhouette visible on the screen that blocks him from view. From afar it'd be fairly easy to tell he's poking at his stitches and grimacing as he shakes his head. "Yeah, this is not going to be fun."
    That said he makes the change after that, emerging after a bit wearing just a black t-shirt and black jersey shorts, but other than that naught else. He crosses the distance and places a hand on the edge of that ring, slipping in under the lowest rope and then regaining his feet.
    A twist of his head is given causing a faint aerated crackle of cartilage then he tells her, "Alright, the safe word is 'Ouch Nightwing, you're way better than me. Stop. Please.'"

Batgirl (Cain) has posed:
    By the utter confusion on Cassandra's face, she has no idea what a 'safeword' is. Her feet bounce a little off the mat, as she remains loose, and then she simply waits for Nightwing to initiate the attack, ready, coiled. And, uninjured. But if Nightwing hopes to beat the Bat, or at least, come close in a pure martial arts fight, there's few better to train with than Cassandra Cain.
    She can see, clearly, as if they were highlighted, the man's sore points. The points on his body she could hit that would incapacitate him. Open his wounds, possibly, even, by the way he moves. She can read the soreness in the movements. The determination, as well. The stubbornness.
    She nods, silently.

Nightwing has posed:
    To his credit he mirrors her stance somewhat, bouncing on his feet and shifting his weight back and forth. He is definitely a step behind compensating for those injuries. She can read the subtle hesitation, the gingerness of some movements. But one thing she won't see that she may have seen in the past... is fear. For there is courage, a clear-headedness as he focuses on the object and her as his opponent.
    His nod is given back to her in the same silence, even as he shifts forward to bounce to the attack, his hips turned faintly and his fists up and held closed though loose enough to grab as he fires a series of jabs, the strikes cutting through the air quickly just a 2-1 combination to commit little and to gauge what defense she's going to use.
    But even in this moment, as they're getting ready to smack the tar out of each other, she can read his body language. Can read the wariness he pays her, the respect, but there's a measure of trust given and even a touch of affection.

Batgirl (Cain) has posed:
    There's patience, in that silence. But when the 1-2 combination comes, not only does Cassandra block the combination, but in stepping away from the second punch she grabs Dick's wrist and levies a kick into his side, hard. He may, from their confrontation realize she is holding back. A little. In strength. Not in skill. She has no desire to reinjure him and face the wrath of Alfred. Or, for that matter, hurt the man she has a respect for.
    She even gives him a moment of a breather to catch himself, to try to strike her again. She's nice, like that.

Nightwing has posed:
    A wince is seen as she makes that strike, clean, perfect. She really is remarkable. Annoying. But remarkable. He shakes it off and then squares up again, giving her the nod and then he moves in again. There's a quick blur of motion, a similar combination fired but altered slightly to shift the angle and force her guard slightly higher, giving him a moment as he steps in to uncurl a low sidekick towards her shin with a quick snap of motion.
    She can read in him these opening gambits, can read that in some ways he's fighting her, but in other ways he's fighting Bruce, the imagined silhouette of the larger man over her, giving him some insight into how each opener might land and what the counter would be.

Batgirl (Cain) has posed:
    She recognizes the switch, and is prepared for it, but she does guard higher. She has to, there is no other choice. But her weight, instead, is shifted to her backfoot, not the front foot that Nightwing is attacking, so while his kick hits, it does not put her off balance. She moves -with- the kick, rather, utilizing it to side-step in a turning motion and whip out fist into his face, hard, fast, as her back is to him in a backhanded motion.
    She completes the turn, moving into a legsweep of her own to try and put Nightwing down onto the mat.

Nightwing has posed:
    She'll feel that back hand impact against his guard, good that he was able to get it up in time, precisely in the place it needs, minimizing the impact even as he steps in. There's a moment when he'll smile a little, perhaps getting into the moment, the groove, his lithe acrobat's form settling into that familiar rhythm even if it's with someone who is exceptional in her talents.
    "So how are you..." There's a break in the words as he draws back and twists into the air, avoiding that clean slice of her foot over the mat, planting his hand as he turns into a smooth partial cartwheel. She can see the jolt in his body, that small lance of pain as he puts stress on his injuries.
    Yet he's back up and in stance, ready as he finishes his words, "Fitting in with everything?" He finishes asking her even as she can see the slight narrowing of his eyes that might hint at the agitation from his side.

Batgirl (Cain) has posed:
    She -could- go for that weakness. But if she sees it, her eyes don't show it. Instead, she shifts stances entirely, moving into an offensive stance, and this time she is not holding back, if she was earlier, as the other man begins to banter. If he expects words, or conversation, she's about as good as Bruce at that. Which means, it's not going to happen. She moves near him, leg moving up for a series of kicks that must be blocked. But that's exactly what she wanted as at the last kick, she twists, jumps her body to scissor at his waist, and utilizing her powerful flexors and hips, as well as momentum, transitions this into a sambo manuever to flip him onto the back of the mat, slamming his head into the padded surface if she's successfull.

Nightwing has posed:
    As she moved in he shifted one side to the other, trying to get he to over or undercompensate. Then she strikes and his forearm slides up to block with a braced arm, the palm of his aiding in the clean triple movement of a Northern style Kung Fu technique that first blocks low, middle high, the last bringing him around as his hand slices out as he drops a little lower, wide arcing movement, gracefully executed as he tries to sweep the strike through her side near her neck...
    Only for her to twist up, her legs scissoring and turning powerfully. She'll feel the jolt of contact and then exertion on the throw as she's able to break his balance and send him down upon the mats. Yet his training is strong, the throw is broken up as he rolls with it partially, one arm reaching out to /slap/ the mats and disperse fome of the impact.
    It's enough to remove the sting of the throw, but she'll still have the moment of an opening, considering he winces at the jolt of that impact.

Batgirl (Cain) has posed:
    She's impressed. Impressed at his ability to think, against her actions - her almost precognitive abilities and her (at least in her mind) far superior martial arts abilities. In some ways, like with the weight dispersal, he can negate her attacks in unusual methods. So, she is indeed impressed. Impressed, but not distracted, and her hand comes out to slam against the top of Dick's head, even as she untangles herself, attempting to give herself a moment to adjust as well, in the advantage. Perhaps she could go for a submission hold here, but such is not her style. But she is, just a little, smiling. If Nightwing can focus enough to see that.

Nightwing has posed:
    He'd been coming up, sliding one bare foot under his feet and rising when her fist came around and connected with the top of his head, causing him to shift balance... but recover almost instantly as he uses the half-stumble to convert it into a roll to the side to buy time, distance, even as he gets back to his feet.
    His hands come up into guard, fingers held apart, palms towards her, one subtly lower than the other. She can see the way he shifts his weight to the side, can sense him instinctively covering for the sensitivity of one side. But she might also see that in some way... he's unknowingly using that perceived weakness as a lure... to draw her in even as he drops a little lower.
    One of his arms sweeps back, a three quarter circle sweeping low, behind, then above as his legs extend faintly, the faint hint of a crane seen in his stance as he gauges her. A moment as their eyes meet and... he sees that smile. It causes a small one of his own. Only a moment. Hidden, then he plants his hands to the ground even as his back leg sweeps around seeking her ankles... yet not once, but three times in quick succession with alternating legs, a whorl of movement graceful and precise.

Batgirl (Cain) has posed:
    The thing about being able to see moves doesn't mean you can avoid every attack, or counter-attack each. There are times you need to go on defense, and Nightwing's adamant aggression towards her is one of those times; certainly she can read that in his movements, and she blocks each with a measure of skill. He is stronger than her. More flexible. She, faster. Better trained. They are good adversaries for each other, pushing against the other's weaknesses. She sees her opening, and slides under him with efficient grace of her own, moving to strike upwards, fast, hard, into his sternum. Not a nerve strike, but one that will knock the air out of him by the angle and pressure she's initiated. And, probably cause that pain to spike also. Yet, she's also managed to avoid hitting any of those broken ribs.
    Once Nightwing has caught his breath, she simply moves to sit with him. In silence. If he wants to talk, she'll listen. If not, she'll simply sit. And provide company.