[open] light up your darkened dreaming

[cassassin]

who: Cassandra Cain and YOU!
what: Catch-all log. Sparring and whatever else as Cass acclimatizes to her new home.
when: April 10-May 10
where: All over.
warnings: Probably violence, references to child abuse, some language.

perimeter guard hq (Damian Wayne, both Captains America, any other sparring partners)

[The invitations had been clear each time. So, at the appointed times, she found herself at the Perimeter Guard HQ's training spaces. Her chosen gear for the spars was simple, a tank top and yoga capris, all in black. A lot of scars were clearly visible on her arms and around her shoulders, scattered all over. Old blade and bullet wounds of various age, old burns, that sort of thing.

She tugs her hair back, leaving her bangs in front as she ties the rest up.]

Ready?


wildcard

[Oooooor do your own thing!]

[hit me up if you want a starter and I'll put something in the comments for you! I'm at clockworkbrain or on discord at gigasatan#7576.]

Comments

[cassassin]

[Natasha is clearly something else on top of being a dancer, that much is for certain. Cassandra sees the practiced nature of how she's carrying herself during her stretches, trying to blend in with the rest of the corps de ballet. It's a conscious effort. The work of someone who knows how to be as remarkable, or unremarkable, as a situation might call for. Trying to just be another figure in the scenery.

The impeccable form of her dance, on top of that curiosity, keeps Cassandra captivated during each cycle of the routine. After the first go at the routine, the principals have nothing left to show her, their moves already cataloged and learned. Naturally, as things progress, her attention shifts towards this woman who is clearly more than she seems.

As the rest of the company mills out, she sees Natasha watching for her. Cassandra moves to a slightly more visible position--still a spot where she wasn't liable to be noticed if someone wasn't actively keeping an eye aimed up there--and raises both of her hands in a mollifying gesture while looking directly towards her, crouched and perfectly balanced atop a steel cable strung taut above the stage.

She doesn't want to make the first move and spook her more than she already has--this feels a bit deer-in-the-headlights in both directions, she thinks--so she points downward a couple of times, exaggerated gestures to be seen clearly from the stage floor, to signal an intent to descend.]

[latrodectus]

[ Natasha crooks an eyebrow at the exaggerated pantomime, but holds her hands up, open-palmed, to communicate that she's unarmed. And that's true, she is unarmed— something she considers uncharacteristic. But Natasha hasn't brought weapons to ballet rehearsal, not since she arrived here, and was given this job. It didn't feel right.

At this moment she regretted her sentimentality, faced with an intruder of some obvious skill and unknown intention. Whoever it was didn't seem hostile, with the clear signals, and— asking permission? But in Natasha's line of work, appearances didn't count for much.

Still. There aren't too many ways to play this, and she has to make do with the choices she has. Natasha makes sure the rest of the company has left— a tilt of her head in the direction of the exit. Then she nods, signaling for Cassandra's descent.

Natasha also speaks. Not loudly, but in the near-empty hall, her voice carries. ]

Enjoy the show?