[MoM][IC Contact]

[pummelgranite]

"Persephone. Speak."

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[pummelgranite]

Oh, yeah. In my purse.

[ Passes her one, and then goes for the other chicken tikka masala. Hopefully there are other dishes in there somewhere. ]

That's good right? That's the idea.

[cassassin]

[Taking that, and she nods as she starts tucking into hers.]

Yeah, it's great. [She's used to being mistaken for Batman by people who didn't get a good look at her, that's a potential strength of being Batgirl, even if she knows full well it wasn't going to be enough here. But right now, acting in the mantle proper? This is so much more. She's thrilled, even if it's terrifying.

Her expression changes, and she sighs, still a little uncertain.]

Just didn't feel... real, until then. Still doesn't.

[pummelgranite]

[ There. Right when she said "great," the way she brightened . . . ]

So how does it feel?

[cassassin]

[That gets her to take pause. She doesn't know that much of what Laura's experienced, but--she's gotten a solid read on her, at least in a general way. Maybe this will make sense.]

Like I'm... pretending. Like this can't work.

Like I got to be... the only thing I've wanted to be? Just... at the worst time.

[pummelgranite]

Hmm.

[ She pokes at her food a moment. She does understand. Deeply so. ]

Well, it doesn't matter that you're pretending. That's a given.

[cassassin]

[Cass is just going to flick a piece of naan at her.]

You know what I meant. Doesn't matter if they figure out I'm...not him, but.

[She's still Batman, and more than fine with having her own approach to doing that. Just impostor syndrome hitting hard, given the circumstances.]

[pummelgranite]

[ DID SHE JUST???????? NAANS HER RIGHT BACK!! ]

And you know what I meant. It's not like Bruce isn't pretending!

[cassassin]

[Cass catches the naan and pops it into her mouth. Die mad about it, Laura.

That gets her to take pause. She knew him as Batman first, after all, and even if he was more complicated than either identity--]

What do you mean?

[pummelgranite]

It's- [ She makes a face as she picks out her words. Like she has to chew through a lemon to voice the thought. ]

You know, the symbol thing. The shadows and the cape and being extra about every bloody detail. It's- uhm. Performative.

[cassassin]

[Cass sits up a little more intently, looking at Laura now.]

It's not...performing. It's becoming. [no, more than that] Um, embodying.

[pummelgranite]

Mm, well I certainly wouldn't know shit about that.

[cassassin]

[Ugh. She scratches at the back of her head, glancing down as she tries to form a response.]

Okay--you're Laura. You're Persephone. Both are...you. You...step into the symbol. Become it.

With the Bat, it's...the same for him. Same for me.

[Cass has a strong feeling they don't necessarily disagree on this. Just that Laura is taking a different angle that she can't fucking relate to.]

[pummelgranite]

[ She huffs. Words are so hard. Who the fuck even invented speaking? ]

Look, what I mean is: maybe Batman is in perfect confident control all the time, doesn't mean Bruce never got nervous.

[cassassin]

[Words are fucking impossible and if she thought Laura might understand what she was trying to say without using them she'd go for nonverbal communication in a heartbeat.]

Wouldn't know. He'd been Batman...ten years, when we met.

I've worked with him...three years, just back home. [ie, not counting time here.] Didn't know his name until...a year ago? Didn't want to.

[pummelgranite]

[ "Because you didn't want to shatter the illusion." Persephone doesn't say.
But, you know. There are less insulting things she could say. ]

Eugh. He's so weird.

[ That probably wasn't one of them. ]

Shite, I'm not helping, am I?

[cassassin]

Steph--

[Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Cassandra instantly stops, voice catching in her throat, but that had been such a Stephanie thing to say. There was an edge of amusement, a sort of charmed annoyance to her voice before she caught herself, and then...

When she speaks again it's soft. Strained, hesitant.]

Laura. [correcting herself, with a wince.] No. [Yeah, Laura definitely hadn't gone for the helpful dialogue option there. She sighs, scrubbing a hand through her hair again, pulling her knees up closer to her chest.]

[pummelgranite]

[ Oh. Ooh. Just like that, her picture of Cassandra's hell comes into clearer focus. There was someone she could confide in, trust with her secrets. And now there was a "Steph"-shaped hole inside her. Persephone's heart aches in sympathy. ]

Cassandra . . .

[cassassin]

I... I don't know how to, um. Talk about this.

[But it's not her saying she doesn't want to. She's desperate to, but it's something she's been overwhelmed by for ages, struggling to even process, truly face-- and it's only gotten worse lately now that someone finally told her the truth, because it raised to many other questions and problems.

And really, it wasn't even the worst of the shit going on in her head.]

[pummelgranite]

. . .

You could tell me about her.

[cassassin]

I... [Deep breath.] Okay. [She's quiet for a long moment, trying to gather her thoughts, trying to steady herself and keep it together. Talking about her hasn't gotten easier. But she knows she has to--sooner rather than later, probably--and Persephone is offering.]

Stephanie was... my best friend. [The way she says it--it's like there's an implication that Cass can't quite grasp. Like the phrase doesn't quite do justice to how she saw her.]

My--first friend, really, I hadn't... had one before. [Bruce and the others were family.] She was... one of us too. Bruce didn't...

[She shakes her head a little, staring right ahead over her knees.]

He'd... push her back. Wouldn't teach her. Then act like... her being... rough was, um, her fault. Like she's not... trying enough. So--she came to me, and... I trained her. We were... close.

[Bruce had not been good to Stephanie. Which, from where Cass was sitting, only ever made her more determined to prove herself. That was what had won her over when Steph asked her for training--Steph never, ever, ever gave up. Bruce looked at that determination and saw recklessness.]

[pummelgranite]

[ She listens. Pulls one knee up, deliberately not exactly mirroring Cassandra's body language. ]

You were working together?

[cassassin]

[She nods a little.]

Yeah. Then he fired her. Um, after a while, my... brother... [That's what Tim was, ultimately.]

He had to... stop being Robin. Steph wanted Robin, and--Bruce gave it to her. Things were--better with them. At first. Then--fired. Again.

After that, Steph--messed up, she was... desperate to... prove herself, to him. And-- [Her voice cracks a little, and her hair falls in front of her face.]

[pummelgranite]

[ She doesn't say anything. She barely breathes. Just waits for her to continue. ]

[cassassin]

[A shaky breath. She can't stop the words now, even as tears are pricking at her eyes.]

She died. We buried her. Um--thought so, anyway.

Thought we could have--I could have-- [She gestures, uselessly, trying to fill the gap. if i'd been better, been faster, we could have done something, could have saved her, shit like that.] I thought that, for...months. But she--someone faked her death. Left the country. Everyone... let me think she was dead. For months, here. When they were ahead. And knew better! Alfred, Superboy, they all--

[There were probably valid reasons to have kept it from her. For starters, even hearing about Steph when she first arrived would have reopened the wound all over again, probably led to an...admittedly softer version of the same mess she's currently struggling through. But she can't even begin to care about that.]

[pummelgranite]

[ she reaches for Cassandra's hand, and covers it with hers ]

That's horrible.