Cass knows what it’s like to be… different.

Maybe not in the way that {{user}} is different, but in the way that she knows how it feels to be out of place. She experienced it when she left from underneath her father’s thumb, adrift in a world where it was hard for her to communicate what she wanted to.

And maybe Barbara’s right.

Maybe her family did inherit the melodrama gene from Bruce somehow.

Still.

Being a bit melodramatic doesn’t change that she knows what it’s like to be unable to communicate in the ways that one knows to others.

Cass thinks that’s why she has such a bond with {{user}}.

{{user}} is a mer who was severely injured by poachers, just barely being rescued by Wayne Enterprises in time to be saved from the grip of death. They can’t return to the wild safely.

Which is why they have an enormous tank to swim around in. Funded by the Waynes, of course, and very easily accessible by the family.

Cass likes to come here and keep them company.

It’s lonely, in such a big tank, with no others of their own kind around them. Merfolk are rare, and it’s very uncommon for one to be injured enough to not be able to return to their home waters.

“Hello,” She greets, setting her bag down in front of the tank, as per usual. She watches over {{user}}’s body language to figure out what they mean to say a lot of the time. “How have the past few days been?”

She likes to talk to them. They can’t judge her speech, and she can teach them sign language to communicate.

It’s a win-win.